Repercussions
by Kanae Yuna
Summary: "Tony really hated magic. Guns and skilled assassins, Tony could handle, but having his own teammates turned against him because they thought he was the enemy? He had to draw the line there." After a fight with the Enchantress, Tony is left badly injured, but no one knows what happened. The problem? He refuses to tell anyone the truth.
1. Chapter 1

First of all, I have to tell you guys that I have never read any of the Marvel comics or have any in-depth knowledge of the Avengers. I'm basing the characters off what my interpretations of the movie, stories that I have read, and Wikipedia, so if there are any discrepancies, I truly apologize, but please don't flag me on it.

Anyway, this story is Steve/Tony with an established relationship. If you don't like the idea, please click the back button and look for other stories to read. If you still choose to read, then please keep an open mind. There aren't really any other pairings, but if I do end up having some, I'll be sure to let you know.

I don't own _Avengers _or any Marvel products.

Other than that, enjoy!

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**Repercussions**

Tony really hated magic. No, scratch that. He hated anything that was anything remotely not of this world. Guns and skilled assassins, Tony could handle, but having his own teammates turned against him because they thought he was the enemy? He had to draw the line there.

He grunted as he felt an arrow pierce through his armor, barely grazing his right shoulder. Glaring at Hawkeye, he jerked out the projectile and eyed the rest of his team warily. He had the advantage of the sky - the Capsicle couldn't touch him and neither could the spies. Well, as long as he stayed away from the buildings, Natasha couldn't catch him off guard. For once, Tony was relieved that the Asgardian god had been visiting his girlfriend down in New Mexico; otherwise, Tony would be nursing more than a few bruises and a broken rib - courtesy of him getting a little too close to the Superhuman.

A roar distracted him for a moment and he turned to see the Enchantress flying out of the Hulk's grasp once again. It all started with her - stupid Asgardian had somehow made her way to Earth and sprung out of nowhere! One moment, the Avengers were enjoying their normal pre-battle banter, and the next, they had their defenses up and were seconds from killing each other. Obviously, Tony had to step in - if anyone died, it would mean _so_ much paperwork for him. It wasn't that he cared about his teammates. Not at all - Iron Man didn't do emotions, at least not on the outside.

It should have been pretty easy, knocking out his teammates one by one while they were distracted with each other, but the Enchantress had figured out that her magic didn't work on him or Banner (probably because of his suit and Banner being the Jolly Green Beast), so she _had _to make his life difficult by showing the Avengers some type of illusion. Then, all of a sudden, they were attacking him in an organized fashion. _That _made things difficult.

Tony had taken a hit to his chest plate by Steve in the first few seconds. The pain of his fractured rib and the fact that it was _Steve _who had hurt him kicked Tony's mind into gear. He left the Enchantress to the Hulk and flew into the sky, thinking that the other three couldn't touch him, but he had forgotten about Hawkeye.

Gritting his teeth, Tony took several swallow breaths as he did calculations in his mind. "JARVIS, reduce power in the repulsors to five percent."

"Understood," came the British monotone voice.

Tony dodged another arrow and dropped his height a little. He raised his right hand and shot at Barton. Perhaps the magic made Barton's movements slower, but Tony really hadn't expected his attack to work. Barton flew backwards, smacking his head on the cement wall, and crumbled to the ground unconscious. Tony winced. He did not envy Barton when he woke up.

Then, he heard a beeping noise behind him. He made the connections before he even saw the bomb tip. The blast knocked him closer to the buildings, but he managed to stay airborne. Panting, Tony glanced back down. Cap was by Clint's side, checking on him. The worry in those dull blue eyes faded and Tony let out a sigh of relief that turned into a hiss as his rib ached. Warning bells went off in his head. Where was the Black Widow?

Shit.

Too late did Tony realize his close proximity to a building that had balconies. There was a snarl and Tony's height dropped as he felt a weight fall on him. Natasha had wrapped her arms around his neck and he was forced to release his back thrusters so that he wouldn't burn her to a crisp, but that meant they were falling to the ground dangerously fast. He would be able to survive it - he had his suit - but Natasha, even as skilled as she was, wouldn't, which meant that he had to make a choice between himself and her.

The answer was easy. Tony didn't even bother to defend himself and used his foot and hand thrusters to lower their descent. About ten feet from the ground where Captain America stood waiting, Tony felt a sharp pain lance through his back. He gasped as the burning and ripping sensation coursed through his body; his vision blackened for a brief second and suddenly, everything felt like fire was spreading from his lower right back.

Then he was falling.

He bit back a scream as he landed on the hard pavement. Lighting shot through him, taking away any strength he possibly could have had, but if he thought being stabbed was bad, the pulling out of the serrated blade was a thousand times worse. Though Natasha had pulled it out in one swift movement, Tony felt every jagged edge biting, cutting, and ripping through his battered flesh. This time, he couldn't stop the cry from escaping him.

His consciousness waned as a wave of hot agony pulsed through him. Breathing hurt; even blinking tortured him, but he had to get up. He had to help the Hulk, but his limbs would not obey him.

A strong hand lifted him up from the ground, drawing a groan from his lips, and he stared at those blue eyes that he had grown to love through the flashing red lights in his HUD.

"Steve..." Tony whispered, pleading with the pain unveiled in his voice.

But the soldier didn't hear him and cruelly threw the billionaire to crash harshly against the wall beside Hawkeye. He slid to the ground like a broken puppet with his strings cut.

JARVIS' voice came in and out of his comms before dying completely. Someone _really _hated Tony, didn't they?

Steve and Natasha approached him threateningly when they froze, blinking through their confusion as a loud roar and a high pitched scream echoed in their ears. Looking up, they saw the Enchantress caught in one of Hulk's deadly hands - her concentration broken, making her illusions vanish. The green monster smirked as he tightened his grip, but the Enchantress teleported away. She reappeared seconds later twenty feet behind Steve and Natasha.

Immediately, Captain America and the Black Widow sprang into action. He flung his shield towards the Enchantress, the revolving sharp edges more lethal than the bullets that Romanoff was shooting. The Enchantress merely smiled and shouted something while thrusting her hand out towards the two. An explosive burst of fire erupted from her fingers. Steve and Natasha both ducked and turned in horror to see her attack heading straight for the unconscious Barton.

There was a flash of red and gold and suddenly, Barton had been lifted into the air awkwardly by his right arm by the Iron Man who was now lowering them both to the ground.

No longer worried, Captain America swiveled back around readied himself for the next attack, but the Enchantress had disappeared. The threat was gone for now, confirmed by the Hulk changing back into Banner a few feet to his right.

"We're clear," Steve said to Natasha, who instantly ran to Barton's aid. Tony had wrapped Hawkeye's arm around his shoulders, supporting his entire weight.

He followed, taking his time, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let anyone near the wounded archer anyway. He felt a little worried at the sight of the blood dripping down the side of Clint's head, but it was probably better than it looked - at worse a concussion. He frowned as he tried to think back to how he got it. There was nothing - just blank fuzziness.

Natasha shoved Tony to a side, "I got him, Stark," she said, though not unkindly.

Tony merely nodded and stumbled a few steps back. Steve's frown deepened. No snarky remarks? No boasting of his amazing prowess? Something was wrong and Steve's feet quickened.

"Tony, are you alright?" he called, getting nearer.

At his words, Natasha's head snapped up to give Tony a once over. Her eyes widened and Steve's heart dropped. Seemingly at the same time, they both saw the small growing puddle of blood pooling at his armored feet.

"Tony!" shouted Steve, breaking into a run.

Tony swayed and without warning, collapsed. Steve sprang forward and caught Tony before he hurt himself further.

"Tony!" Steve called out again, ripping off Tony's helmet when he didn't remove it.

Natasha crouched in front of them, Barton lying comfortably not too far from him. "Where's he hit?" she asked, her fingers delicately prodding, searching.

"I don't know." Steve pressed a free hand to his earpiece, "SHIELD, we need medics. Iron Man has been badly hurt. Hurry!"

"They'll be on site in five," came Fury's voice. If Steve wasn't so worried, he would have noticed the concerned edge to their director's tone.

"Steve, I think he's injured on his back. Flip him over!" she hissed.

Steve made to, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't. You may hurt him more. Just sit him up," Banner said quietly.

The soldier obliged, but no one could discern where the origin of the blood was through his suit. The crimson liquid blended in with the metal.

Frustration and panic fueling him more than anything, Steve swiftly pressed the buttons that he knew would release the suit's hold on the genius. The front and back plates fell down with a clang and the three of them sucked in a breath at the sight of the jagged stab wound.

"What the hell could have caused this?" Steve burst out. "When did it happen?"

"You mean you don't remember?" asked Banner, "Put pressure on that."

Steve shook his head as he complied, wincing as Tony let out a small whimper. "The Enchantress did something. Natasha..." he looked at her, meaning to ask her if she was the same way as him, but his words died in his mouth.

Natasha had gone pale, her eyes wide and her mouth open slightly.

"You know what did this..." Steve breathed.

She didn't answer. Instead, with trembling hands, she reached into one of the sheaths on her side. She closed her eyes as she pulled out her marine-grade knife. There was no need to look to know that it was covered in Tony's blood.

They didn't have time to react to the knowledge when helicopters landed down around them. Men surrounded them all, checking each for injuries. Before they even knew it, Tony had been ripped from Steve's grasp and Clint had disappeared somewhere.

Numbly, Steve felt someone guide him to another helicopter and all of a sudden, they were back on the helicarrier. Before he knew it, several hours had passed and he was sitting in the waiting room of the helicarrier's hospital with Banner and Natasha.

Low murmurs reached Steve's ears, pulling him out of his guilt-ridden and worried daze.

"He hasn't spoken since SHIELD picked us up. I'm a little worried..." whispered Natasha.

"I think he's in shock," Banner replied, his voice just as low.

Natasha gritted her teeth, "I can understand why. What the hell happened in that fight? No one can remember anything!"

"Think carefully. What was the last thing you remember?"

"We were fighting the Enchantress," Steve said quietly, making Natasha and Bruce flinch, "And then suddenly, it was Tony in front of us."

"You alright, Steve?" Banner asked.

Steve let out a mirthless chuckle, "Better than Tony."

"Or Clint for that matter," Natasha added softly.

"What happened to Clint? Please tell me that you two remember that part."

"The Enchantress took him out," the spy replied.

"That can't be possible. The Other Guy had her occupied the entire time."

Steve frowned, "Then who knocked him out?"

Natasha thought for a moment. "Clint did have slight burns on his chest. Stark?"

Steve shook his head, "Tony would never hurt a teammate."

"Do you think Clint would know?" asked Banner.

"I doubt it." Natasha paused, "Do you think..."

Knowing exactly what she was about to say, Steve cut her off before she could get any further, "You wouldn't harm a teammate either, no matter how much he gets on your nerves," smiled Steve.

"It was _my _knife."

"Doesn't mean you were the one to use it. We'll just have to wait until Tony wakes up."

At that moment, a very angry Fury stormed in with a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents following close behind, holding paperwork in their arms. "Will someone tell me what the hell happened out there?" he boomed.

Steve stood, facing the director. "Sir, none of us can remember. The only one who knows is Iron Man."

"And his prognosis?"

"Unknown, sir."

"Then keep me updated."

"Yes, sir."

Fury's one eye swept over the rest of the team, as if checking for possible injuries before he stomped away, barking out orders to scampering passing agents.

"Aw...he _so_ cares about us," came a familiar cheeky voice.

The three turned to see Clint leaning heavily against the wall with bandages wrapped around his head. No doubt he had escaped the clutches of the nurses and doctors in the infirmary, but they couldn't bring themselves to care at the moment and rose to greet him.

"Clint!" they exclaimed together. Natasha was the first to reach him and guided him to a chair with movements that were far gentler than anyone had ever seen.

"It was just a concussion. I'm alright though," Clint said, answering any of the questions that they might have had. "That witch really did a number on me, huh? Where's Stark?"

He read the crestfallen expressions on his teammates. His heart clenched and he felt a darkness spread over his numb limbs as he immediately jumped to the conclusion that his comrade had been killed. Hot anger fueled by revenge lashed over his grief and he stood, growling, "I'm gonna kill her!"

Natasha leapt up, forcing Clint back down before he did anything rash. "Stark is in surgery. And you're not in any shape to go on a crazy suicide mission."

"What happened to him?"

"You don't know either?" Steve swallowed hard.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Before anyone had a chance to explain to him, a bald doctor approached them, looking extremely haggard. In seconds, he was surrounded by four of the Avengers.

A little overwhelmed, he took a step back, but there was nowhere to go.

"How's Tony?" Steve asked, sounding a little breathless.

"Mr. Stark suffered from a fractured rib on his left side and a swallow cut on his left shoulder, which required a few stitches. The stab wound in his lower back was the most problematic. Though the blade avoided hitting any vital organs, the injury was hard to close up because of the jagged nature of the weapon. He lost a considerable amount of blood, but he will make a full recovery."

The team let out a collective sigh.

"Can we see him?" Bruce questioned.

"Mr. Stark is still recovering from surgery, so I must insist that only one visitor at a time."

There was no hesitation. Bruce, Natasha, and Clint all turned to Steve and nodded at him.

"Go," Natasha said quietly. "Stay with him."

Steve merely nodded his thanks and found himself almost sprinting to Tony's room. Skidding to a stop, he stared at his boyfriend lying bedridden on sheets of white; machines beeped steadily in the room. An oxygen mask had been placed over Tony's nose and mouth and an IV was stuck into his right wrist. He was lying on his left side to keep pressure off his wound.

Steve sucked in a breath when he saw the white bandages wrapped tightly around Tony's entire torso and covered his right shoulder. Bruises on his lax face had turned purple and slightly bluish. There was a blanket covering his lower half, but Steve had no doubts that it was just as discolored as his upper body.

Almost shakily, Steve dropped down on a chair that had been conveniently placed by Tony's bedside. Reaching out, the soldier grasped Tony's left hand – the only part of him that didn't seem bruised or hurt. He made comforting circles around the back of the genius' hand; he caressed Tony's hair with his other hand, soothing and lovingly.

He didn't know how long he sat like that – touching Tony and checking to see if his breathing was still constant. The memory of Tony completely limp and broken in his arms kept him awake even though his body was aching for some rest.

The two had only been officially dating for a couple of months now, but they had been together far longer than any of them had thought, and no one minded the slightest. In fact, all the Avengers just wanted to see Tony happy.

Tony – being the genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist he was – had somehow wormed into all of the Avengers' hearts. He had offered all of them a place to stay in his tower – a place that they were free to be who they were without fear of harming others or being judged. He was Bruce's lab buddy and was the only one that the Hulk adored; he pulled pranks with Clint and pretended to be petrified of Natasha with him. He constantly upgraded the spies' weapons and always made sure that there was a never ending supply of coffee and pop-tarts for Thor. And for Steve, he was always there for him whenever the times overwhelmed him or if he found himself missing the forties so much to the point that he wanted to get drunk even though it was impossible for him.

Steve really didn't know when he had fallen so hard for the genius or how it happened. He just found himself constantly searching for that broad grin Tony would have when he was being his usual snarky self, but more so for the genuine, soft smile that Tony held in reserve for when the two of them were alone. He missed Tony's laughs and touches whenever he left for a conference. He missed Tony going out of his way to teach Steve all that was to know in their time and to find places that would make Steve feel more at home, like a forties-styled diner.

They never talked about it – of when they meant more to each other than anything else in their lives. One day, after a particularly romantic dinner that Tony had cooked (who knew the billionaire could cook?), they found themselves tumbling into Tony's bedroom, their lips crashing against each other passionately.

They haven't looked back since.

Steve lightly pressed his lips against Tony's hand for the hundredth time. This time, he felt a slight movement.

Glancing up, blue met black and a warm smile found its way to Steve's face.

"Hey, you," he said softly.

Tony blinked a couple of times, working through the drug haze, before recognition set in his eyes. Tentatively, he moved his right hand to shift off his oxygen mask, but the slight movement sent fire through his body and he hissed.

Worried, Steve made to touch Tony, but Tony merely shook his head to indicate that he was alright. The billionaire snuggled into Steve's grasp on his left hand, but his eyes didn't leave Steve's. The silent plea was heard loud and clear.

Steve pulled down Tony's mask with a frown.

"You know that it's there for a reason, Tony."

Tony cleared his throat a couple of times. "D-don't need it," he rasped out.

"I would ask you how you feel, but you'll just glare at me."

Tony smiled, feeling too tired to chuckle. "How's Barton?" he sighed.

"Clint's fine. He just had a concussion."

"He escaped the evil clutches of the manhandling nurses, I see."

Steve bit the bottom of his lip, itching to shoot questions at Tony. Tony noticed the silence.

"What?"

"I…" Steve hesitated and changed his mind, "It can wait."

Tony gritted his teeth. "I'm injured – not fragile. Spit it out!"

"Do you remember what happened?"

Something flickered in Tony's eyes. "Yes."

"Tony, what happened?"

Tony looked at him now, his eyes searching. A frown became pronounced on his features. Steve could see him connect the dots and became increasingly puzzled when a look of relief spread across Tony's face.

"Don't worry about it, Steve."

"What do you mean don't worry about it? You're lying here with a stab wound in the back!" Steve took a breath, steading himself. "Look, you're the only one that knows exactly what happened with the Enchantress. We need to know."

"I lied. I don't remember."

"Tony!"

But Steve could see Tony building up walls, hiding himself behind them. He had only seen Tony do this a couple of times before, and usually it was because something had greatly upset him, like the time a little girl died in the collapse of a building before Tony could save her.

Steve's words sent Tony spiraling back to the fight with the Enchantress – the pain of betrayal stronger than anything physical. He could still see Steve's cold eyes regarding him like the enemy. He could feel Natasha's fury bury itself in his back and Clint's murderous arrow piercing him. These were the people that had become his family – people that were more precious to him than his own life. He had thought that nothing could be worse than Afghanistan, but he was so horribly wrong. His greatest fear had come alive at the Enchantress' hands – the Avengers turning away from him, leaving him alone in this harsh world.

Suddenly, the beeping of the machines were grating against his ears; the dimmed lights were too bright. The sounds of nurses and doctors bustling around put him on edge. He didn't feel safe here. All those nameless faces – all those judging people could tear him apart in minutes in his current state. He _needed_ to get out of here. He needed familiarity.

"Steve," he whispered out, his voice cracking, "I want to go home."

"Tony…" Steve started on his lecture of why it was important for Tony to stay in the hospital, but Tony didn't give him a chance to go any further.

_"Please…"_

It was the 'please' that did Steve in. It was so broken, so tired and raw that Steve found himself unable to refuse Tony, even though his entire being was screaming at him to keep Tony here where doctors could keep an eye on him.

"Alright," Steve said, "I'll let the doctors know."

Tony nodded numbly and sank back down into his pillows, closing his eyes. He felt Steve touch his brow briefly before the warmth disappeared all together. The coldness was overwhelming – it suffocated Tony, drowning him in the darkness of his mind.

There wasn't anything he could do but give in.

The shadows swallowed Tony Stark whole and he knew nothing more, save for the cold, blue eyes that haunted his nightmares...

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_To be continued..._

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I hope you liked it! And as always, please review!

~ Kanae Yuna


	2. Chapter 2

I've got to say, I didn't really have much confidence in my story. I literally spent a week debating whether or not to put this story up, so I want to thank all those who reviewed, favorited, and/or followed my story. It really made my day! Especially the reviews and all the kind words. Really made a difference to me. Honestly. I didn't get quite as many reviews on my other stories, so I kind of gave up writing fanfic for a while and focused on other things. I mean, this is the first time I got so many reviews just from the first chapter alone! Thanks, everyone!

And because I'm easily swayed by kind words, I worked hard to update this quickly and make it extra long so I really hope you all enjoy it!

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Disclaimer: I don't own any Marvel products.

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**Chapter 2**

After several tantrums and the actual process of attempting to rig the helicarrier to change course and take him to his mansion in Malibu, Tony Stark was finally allowed to be released from hospital three days after he was moved from the ICU to a private room. There really wasn't much of a discussion on who joined him on the quinjet. Steve and Bruce were obvious choices - both were needed to subdue and treat the genius. Apparently, Natasha and Clint had been forbidden to jump on, but they managed to do so anyway, which, in hindsight, wasn't quite a good idea for either of the injured men. Though it had been an entire week since the fight with the Enchantress, Clint was still suffering from post-concussion syndrome and Tony was just beginning to mend. Neither realized how taxing traveling the trip to California would be to them.

About an hour away from his mansion in Malibu, Tony had become completely crippled by his pain and was barely coherent. Every movement jarred his wounds, but staying still put pressure on his fractured rib. No matter what he did, his entire body was constantly hovering between being completely on fire or having ripples of lighting rush through him. It was all he could to not cry out every time they hit turbulence.

Attentive as always, Steve kept a hand running comfortingly through his black hair, but even that wasn't quite enough. Yet, he remained conscious, despite his best efforts to pass out.

Blearily, he looked glanced at Clint as a momentary distraction. From his stretcher and his position on his left side, he could see the greenish tinge on Clint's face, contrasted brightly against the white bandages on his head. Natasha was whispering in his ear, holding a bucket near him.

"Sorry..." Tony said softly, almost too quiet to hear, but even as dizzy as he was, the archer's sharp ears caught Tony's words.

"You talking to me?" Clint asked, bafflement clear on his face.

Tony nodded briefly before the throbbing of his injuries forced him to stop.

"Why're you sorry?"

"It's my fault..." Tony mumbled.

"How is it your fault?" Clint prodded.

The rest of the team could hear the hope in Clint's voice - that Tony would reveal what happened. Since he had woken up from surgery, everyone had asked him about the fight, but no one got any answers other than the blatant lie that he didn't remember. Clint had hoped that, in his current state, Tony would let something slip, but even though he was drugged up to his eyeballs, Tony was as tight-lipped as ever, choosing to deflect from the question.

"You alright?" asked Tony.

"Better than you," Clint responded.

A small smirk appeared on his face as his eyes slid shut, "Still prettier than you."

"Lies. The drugs are screwing with your head."

"Just...ask Steve," Tony muttered before he finally, _finally_, fell into unconsciousness.

"Anyone have any idea why he won't talk about what happened?" Clint piped as soon as the pain on Tony's face evened out.

"The _one_ time we want him to talk, he won't," gritted Natasha.

Bruce joined in. "I think someone should call Thor. He may understand a little bit of what happened. The Enchantress is from his world after all."

Steve shook his head, "I've already asked Fury to, but he's gone with Jane to visit his father in Asgard. We can't contact him until he returns, and we don't know when that is."

"We'll need to keep an eye out for Tony then," said Clint. "You know how he gets when he's brooding."

"Bruce, do you still have the override codes to his lab and JARVIS?" asked Natasha.

"Yes, but I can guarantee you that they won't work if Tony doesn't want them to."

"Then we'll just go through the vents or something."

"Not with that head injury, you're not! Besides, it's not like you can fit in them anymore."

"Are you implying something, Natasha?"

"I'll leave that to your imagination if your brain is still capable of thinking."

Steve chuckled slightly at the two, wondering what Tony would have said if he was awake. No doubt his sass would have led to something that insulted the two spies, resulting in a feigned surrender with a makeshift white flag.

"Then we'll just have to take shifts watching him," suggested Bruce. "Under no circumstances are we allowed to leave him alone for more than five minutes."

Three people glared at him.

He sighed, "Let me amend that – he's not allowed to be alone for more than a minute."

Clint scoffed. "Last time, he rewired the entire alarm system on the helicarrier to lock everyone in their own rooms and set off the sprinklers because he was bored – and _that_ took him all of two minutes. Fury was _not_ happy when his eye-patch got wet. It was priceless." Clint took on a faraway look, smirking as he recalled that exact moment.

The red-head smiled at the memory too and even Bruce let out a small laugh. The three continued to reminisce at all the shenanigans that Tony had pulled since they met – all the annoyances and laughter that made him an integral part of their team. If Steve didn't know any better, this was the Avengers' way of coping with almost losing someone so important to them.

At that thought, the grin on Steve's face grew strained as he thought back to the hospital – the sight of Tony so weak that he could barely form coherent sentences, let alone be his usual snarky self. His unshed tears of pain and frustration of feeling so helpless haunted Steve. Tony had only been fully awake for a couple of times, but Steve could tell that something was eating at him.

Tony was never one to like sleeping with all the calculations, inventions, and other scientific ideas floating around his head at the speed of light (not that Steve would ever understand). In short, his mind never shut off and Tony had long ago decided that sleep could wait when he was dead. And if Steve hadn't started sleeping together with Tony, he never would have learned that on top of his hyperactive mind, Tony often had nightmares about Afghanistan and losing one of his teammates to a mission gone awry. So he could understand a little when Tony would plead with him – _beg_ him to convince the doctors that he didn't need the sedatives that put him to sleep. He even went as far as to refuse painkillers, but Steve gently convinced him otherwise, saying that Tony's body needed the rest to heal.

Steve would never forget the brief second where pure, unadulterated terror spread across Tony's face when sleep was about to overcome him, but no matter how Steve tried to ask him why, Tony would shut his mouth and turn away. Well, he would _attempt_ to turn away before he remembered exactly where his injuries were and then proceeded to sulk, refusing to make eye contact or talk with anyone.

There was something seriously wrong, and everyone could tell. If Tony's silence wasn't enough of an indication, Steve's absentmindedness worried everyone.

Steve was Captain freaking America – the epitome of focus, determination, and all things that made him a great leader. Yet, he was completely thrown out of whack by one Tony Stark – playboy, billionaire, genius, and whatever else his ego would throw out.

He sighed, running his fingers through Tony's hair again, and leaned down to press a chaste kiss against his brow. With one ear, he listened to Clint and Natasha laugh quietly at a story that Bruce was telling them – something about Tony exploding something in the lab because of 'defective' robot that had a strange attachment to fire extinguishers.

There was a beep and then the pilots informed the Avengers that they were going to arrive at Tony's home in twenty minutes. The plane hit another turbulence, rocking hard, and Clint turned into shades of green that even the Hulk would admire.

Needless to say, the rest of the journey wasn't as pleasant smelling as they would have liked.

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_Loud laughter screeched at Tony's ears. He recognized it – that hateful and annoying sound had taunted at him, mocked him as he watched Steve, Clint, and Natasha turn around to stare at him. They advanced; Steve raised his shield, Natasha pointed her guns at him, and Clint had an arrow aimed straight at his reactor where his heart hid behind._

"_Snap out of it, guys! You're under a spell!" Tony yelled._

"_You're a danger to others. You need to be taken down," growled Steve, his blue eyes cold as the ice he was once frozen in._

"_What? I'm not the enemy!"_

"_Oh, but you are, Tony."_

_Tony swallowed hard. "No…this is just the Enchantress' doing. S-stop, Steve," stuttered Tony as he took a step back._

"_The Enchantress isn't even here, Stark. It's just you. All of this was _your _fault," hissed Natasha. "And to think that _my_ ledger was bad. Take a look at yours!"_

_Suddenly, the stench of iron overwhelmed his senses. He turned his nose away in disgust at the familiar smell and his eyes widened as he saw the thousands of bodies lying strewn around him. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children and infants lay at his feet; their lifeless eyes stared at him accusingly._

"_N-no…I didn't do this…" he whimpered._

"_Your weapons did, Tony," whispered Clint. "You're responsible for taking away more lives than Tasha and I have combined."_

"_You're a monster," Steve said._

_Something in Tony shattered into a million pieces. Tears leapt to his eyes._

_Natasha's fingers curled around the triggers. "You deserve to die, Stark."_

_Clint drew back his bow further. "We should have never trusted you."_

_Steve prepared to throw his shield at Tony. "I could never love a murderer like you."_

_And then all Tony could see were those icy blues that froze everything he was, consuming his broken heart and soul…_

Tony snapped awake with a muffled cry. Tears fell unbidden down his eyes and he was suddenly aware of a presence near him. His heartbeat thumped rapidly in his ears, fear making his imagination run wild.

He flinched as someone's large hand laid down on his shoulder and a groan escaped from him as the pain from his lower back reared its angry head.

"Tony, what's wrong? Do you need more medication?"

Tony knew that voice. It was so warm, so soothing. So full of love…not like the one from his nightmare.

"Steve…" he croaked.

Gentle blue eyes connected with teary black ones.

Steve leaned forward, crawling onto Tony's king-sized bed, and caressed Tony's cheeks. His thumb wiped away some tears and his kisses chased away others.

"It's alright, Tony. It's just a dream," Steve assured him, his voice low and calming.

Tony sniffed, struggling to compose himself.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, and Steve knew better than to push Tony.

"What can I do to help?"

"Just…" Tony took a shuttering breath, his need for physical contact outweighing his desire to nurse his pride. "Hold me, please?"

Steve didn't even hesitate. He slowly positioned himself to lie on his side next to Tony, facing him as he maneuvered himself to inch closer. Carefully, as to not aggravate any of Tony's injuries, Steve pulled Tony into his chest and kissed the top of Tony's head.

"Love you, Tony," whispered Steve.

'_I could never love a murderer like you...'_

"Why?" murmured Tony. "Why would you love someone like me?"

'_You're a monster.'_

There was a pause and Tony could feel his heart begin to tear, but then Steve spoke with no hesitation.

"I love how you make me laugh and how you drive me crazy. I love how you act like an egotistical narcissist and still care more than anyone else. I love how gorgeous you are and your weird goatee that seems to be quite popular nowadays. I love how ridiculously how smart you are and how happy you make me feel. There are so many reasons, Tony. It's impossible to list them all out, but bottom line is: I love you, Tony, for who you are. You mean more to me than I can ever express."

If Steve heard the strained sob Tony let out, he didn't comment on it. If Steve was grossed out by the snot that Tony was leaving on his shirt, he didn't say it out loud. He just let Tony be, knowing full well how Tony needed reassurances after certain dreams.

He sighed, holding Tony closer without hurting him further.

"I love you, Tony."

A sniff. "Love you, too, Steve."

Tony buried his face into Steve's shirt, breathing in the Clive Christian cologne that he had given him for a Christmas present one year. He could feel Steve's warmth surround him, chasing away his nightmare. The sound of Steve's heartbeat was like a metronome, lulling him back to sleep.

Steve stayed awake for a few minutes more, listening and feeling Tony's heartbeat against him. He wasn't sure when or how it happened, but somehow, their beats lined together – becoming one.

It comforted Steve, more than words could explain, and he felt himself relaxing into Tony.

Hours later, Bruce smiled as he saw the two together and quietly closed the door behind him.

His shift could wait just a little bit longer…

* * *

A couple of days passed and Tony felt strong enough to wander through his mansion, though there was someone always within arm's reach, supporting and holding him up. He understood that his friends were worried about him, but somehow, their constant presence just made him feel on edge. It was as if he could feel their gazes pierce through him, and he wanted nothing more than the peace and quiet of his lab to sort out his thoughts.

It was then a scheme to escape started formulating in his mind, but when did everything ever go according to plan?

It started with Tony taking a nap on the couch in his living room. Despite Steve and Bruce's protests, he had refused to sleep in his room anymore. There were too many nightmares and memories and Tony needed a change of pace. He had wandered there under Bruce's watchful eye after spending some time on the floor above where Steve and Clint were letting off some steam.

Usually, Tony would have no problem staring at Steve in a tight t-shirt as he punched the shit out of some sand; the sweat would make Steve's clothes stick closer to his amazing body. The intense concentration on Steve's face combined with his outfit was always an eye-candy for Tony, but today, every time Steve's right hook connected harshly with the bag, he would see himself in front of his boyfriend, silently taking the abuse.

He would flinch, hiss, and then turn away to see Clint shooting at some obscure target in the distance, looking slightly bored. And then Tony's right shoulder would throb.

So, he wandered off, subconsciously searching for the Black Widow, just wondering if she was going to pop out behind him.

He never noticed the frown on Steve's face or Clint's raised eyebrows as he left, but neither spoke. Tony still refused to talk and they knew better than to push him into a corner.

Bruce turned to follow Tony, nodding his head at the other two men. It didn't take a genius to realize that Tony had no problems with Bruce – never flinching when he was nearby. His eyes never took on the flash of fear as he had with the others. As much as it tore Steve apart to not be the one to comfort Tony, he wanted what was best for his boyfriend. If Bruce was the answer, then Steve was more than willing to give them space.

Banner noted how antsy and silent Tony was. It was unnerving, but he didn't say anything. He didn't know, but Tony was far from quiet in his mind. He had gone through several methods of escape, but each one ended in Natasha or Clint sitting on him to keep him down, or worse, restraining him.

The only chance he had to scurry down to his lab was if he did something drastic, as in create a distraction long enough for him to make his way there.

A yawn interrupted his thoughts. Fatigue and exhaustion caught up to him quickly. He was still limping around, moving as slow as a snail through his hallways. Bruce had offered him a wheelchair, but he had rapidly dismantled it in the first three minutes that he was given it. Tony fucking Stark did _not_ sit in wheelchairs. It was just tacky and unnecessary, though at times, Tony did regret doing so, not that he would ever say it out loud.

Without him realizing it, Bruce had used his inattentiveness to lead Tony to the couch in the living room. Tony glared at Bruce, realizing that he had been manipulated, but he couldn't bring himself to be too angry. After all, Tony had literally been draped around Bruce for support; it was fairly easy to bring Tony to wherever they wanted him to go, and he hated it.

"Rest for ten minutes, Tony. You're still recovering," Bruce said.

"I don't need you telling me what to do, _Mom_," Tony drawled out.

Bruce ignored his statement, turning to look at the kitchen behind them – no doubt thinking of what to make. "You have to take your pain meds soon. What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," Tony replied, curling onto the couch as best as he could.

He laid on his left side, facing the sofa's back. He winced, feeling his rib protest, and squirmed into a more comfortable position before another gasp escaped him. The wound in his back _burned_, and Tony clutched at his shirt above the injury, as if it could chase away the agony.

Bruce gently pried his fingers away, worried that Tony would accidentally tear off his stitches through the bandages.

"Yep, you definitely need more pain meds."

Tony took a couple of swallow breaths before shaking his head. "I don't want it."

Bruce frowned. "Why not?"

"It makes me tired."

"I know you're a genius, so you should know that sleeping is vital to recovering. Unless there's another reason?" Bruce nudged.

But as expected, Tony deflected. "I want beef wellington."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'll get started on that right away. How does eating in two days sound to you?" Bruce snorted. "Grilled chicken and brown rice it is."

"Hey! You asked me what I wanted! Who the hell eats brown rice anyway? Isn't that for horses to eat or something?"

"I'm not going to dignify that question with a response," retorted Bruce, walking away. "It won't take long."

Tony had originally planned to wait until Bruce was preoccupied before he scampered to his lab, but the couch was suddenly extremely comfy and he _was _tired. He closed his eyes. He would rest for just a minute and then escape. Just one minute…

When Bruce glanced at Tony ten minutes later to let the genius know that his food was ready, but Tony was quietly snoring away, the pain on his face erased in sleep.

He smiled gently and shoved the chicken into the fridge. Tony could eat when he woke up. And he quietly settled down at the table, reading a newspaper and keeping an eye on Tony at the same time.

He had just finished reading through the science editorials and moved on to the comics when Steve and Clint wandered in, looking for an after-workout snack. Both noticed Tony in seconds. Steve and Clint glanced at each other, having a silent conversation. Steve then joined Bruce at the table; the latter wordlessly handed Steve the politics section as Clint used his spy skills to make a quick meal for the two of them with absolutely no sound.

It was around then when they heard a slight shuffle on the couch. The three of them glanced over and saw Tony twitching. His face had contorted and his lips were moving wordlessly.

Steve stood, meaning to wake Tony from his nightmare before he started thrashing, but Natasha beat him to it. She almost materialized out of nowhere, surprising both Steve and Bruce, and gently shook Tony's shoulder.

The effects were instantaneous.

Tony jerked awake with a yelp. Disoriented, the first thing he realized was that _Natasha_ was behind him and he almost flung himself away from her. He tumbled to the ground with a thump; his black eyes were large and bright with fear. His breaths came too quickly and his vision wavered. He choked back a scream as he stared at Natasha. His entire body shook with the exertion, but the adrenaline kept his pain at bay – just barely.

Natasha backed away, holding her hands up in the air in surrender. Her usually guarded expression revealed concern and confusion. Steve was by Tony's side in seconds, but Tony flinched away from him too.

This time, he let out a loud groan as he curled in on himself even as he tried to feebly fight with Steve.

"Back away, Steve!" exclaimed Bruce, rushing over. Steve found himself shoved to a side while Bruce quietly spoke to Tony, coaxing him back to reality.

After a few tense minutes, Tony calmed, his breathing slowing to a normal pace. A sheen of sweat covered his brow and the pain was etched into the lines of his face. Shakily, he stood up with Bruce's help and noticed Clint standing motionless in the kitchen. The smell of something burning made him crinkle his nose. He shot a sideways look at Steve and Natasha. Both had similar expressions as Clint – horrified, worried, and full of pity.

He backed away and no one made to follow him, as if they were afraid that he was going to break the moment they touched him.

And he couldn't take it.

A few more steps and he was a step outside the large open doorway. He continued looking at his friends – his family staring at him like a broken puppet and suddenly, it was too stifling to be in the same room as them.

"JARVIS, initiate code 3473 in the living room," he said.

"What? What's code 3473?" Barton asked, stepping forward.

His questions were answered when the fire alarms started to go off around them, surrounding them with flashing red lights and blaring noises. A heavy-duty glass door slid into place, inches from Tony's nose.

The Avengers sprang into action, realizing too late what Tony had done.

Steve and Clint pounded at the door that separated Tony and them while Natasha checked it for weaknesses. Bruce just stood behind them, pinching his nose as he counted to ten. No doubt his eyes were tinted green if they were open to look at Tony.

"Tony! Open this door!" shouted Steve.

Tony shook his head, sinking back against the wall. He gave them an apologetic look before rushing off (at least in his mind) down the hallway and to the elevator.

He had locked his lab down when he heard an explosion from two floors above him and he hoped that the Avengers hadn't broken anything significant in his house, but just briefly. He quickly ducked his head, burying himself into the nearest appliance as a distraction. He knew that someone was going to come after him.

The next minute, he heard a beeping on the holograph lock and he mentally cursed himself for not changing the passcode before he settled down.

The door open with a whoosh and Tony heard footsteps approach him, careful to steer clear of his back.

"We need to talk, Tony."

Tony instantly recognized the voice. "Go away, Banner."

Bruce crossed his arms and purposefully placed himself into Tony's vision. "No, not until you tell me what's going on with you. That reaction earlier was not normal, even for you."

Tony _really_ didn't want to deal with this right now.

"JARVIS, you know what happened, right? Tell me," Banner said loudly.

"JARVIS, I strictly forbid you from saying anything to anyone about the fight and you aren't allowed to speak while Banner's here!" Tony yelled. "No sneaking around, JARVIS. I mean it!"

"Tony! This isn't helping anyone! Why won't you talk?" Bruce snapped.

"What do you want me to say, Banner?" snarled Tony, whirling on Bruce.

"The truth! What the hell happened? Tell me so I can help you!"

"Trust me, nothing good will come out of me talking."

Frustrated, Banner couldn't stop the next words from tumbling out of his mouth. "Why don't you think of others for once? Do you know how worried sick Steve is? How on edge Natasha is or how upset Clint is? I understand more than anyone how it feels to suddenly wake up and find out that all isn't what it seems. They deserve to know!"

Tony rounded on him, growling. "The truth will set you free, is it? Bullshit. How many times did you wake from being the Hulk and wish that you never knew what you had done? Ignorance is bliss, so fuck off and get out of my lab."

Bruce crossed his arms. "No. Not until you tell me what happened."

"Why do you _have_ to pick at it until it fucking bleeds? Leave it the fuck alone!"

"I can't!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because it's clearly bothering you!"

"I'm fine," Tony snapped.

"That's a lie, and you know it. Don't think we haven't noticed how you can't have Natasha stand behind you or that you flinch every time you see Steve hit a punching bag and Clint practicing shooting. We're not idiots, but we do care about you, Tony. We just want to help you! Because we're family!"

"And that's exactly why I _can't_ tell you!"

At that, Bruce's mouth snapped shut. Realization hit him hard, like a freight train running straight into him. This wasn't Tony sulking, being afraid of something, or even nursing his pride. This was Tony protecting the people most important to him.

"Tony..." he whispered, his emotions making his voice quiver.

Tony purposefully kept his gaze on the electronic in his hand, knowing full well that the game was up. "What am I supposed to tell them, Bruce? Can you imagine how hurt Steve would be if he knew that he was the one to break my ribs? He wouldn't even be able to be in the same room as me. And you think I'll still be able to pull pranks with Clint after he finds out that he almost blew me up _and_ shot me in the shoulder?" He laughed mirthlessly, "How am I supposed to tell Natasha that she _literally_ stabbed me in the back? I'll just become another mark in her red ledger."

His voice dropped. "It wasn't their fault. The Enchantress made them think that I was her - they were just doing what they were supposed to be do. I don't blame them, but they'll blame themselves. And I can't do that to them."

"Then why are you hiding here?"

Tony exhaled harshly, running his shaking fingers through his hair. "Because I can't stop seeing the coldness in their eyes – I can't stop seeing in their faces that I'm a threat to be eliminated. It's just…" he trailed off. How was he supposed to explain that, as hurt was he was by his 'family' regarding him with such anger, he was more afraid that that would become reality? That all the people he cared about would turn against him?

_This _was why he kept everyone at an arm's length, but somehow, the Avengers had weaseled past his defenses. He would die for them in a heartbeat, as they would for him. He could see how much they cared for him – the little touches Natasha would give him in silent support, Clint's goal to make him laugh and smile every minute of the day, Bruce's attempts to distract him with scientific theories, and Steve's constant, affectionate presence that warmed and grounded him. He wasn't going to let some stupid Asgardian fuck everything up for him – not when he had so much to lose.

He shrugged. "I'll get over it. I just need some time and this'll fade to a bad memory, but the others? They'll never stop feeling guilty. I don't want their pity; I don't want them to change how they treat me. I'd rather suffer on my own then let them know what happened." Tony gave Bruce a hard stare, "Bruce, promise me that you won't tell them. _Promise_ me."

"I…"

"_Please._"

It was the 'please' that made Bruce cave in. Like Steve before him, he couldn't refuse a pleading Tony who had put aside his own pride for the sake of others. It simply wasn't possible.

Sighing, Bruce nodded, "I promise, but in exchange, you come find me if you ever need to talk about this."

Tony began tinkering with the silicon chip he had in his hand again. "Thanks, Bruce."

"What are you doing anyway? The last time I saw your lab this cluttered, it was when you were developing new weapons for Clint that he could use when he ran out of arrows."

"In case that bitch ever comes back, I'm trying to figure out how to break the illusions that she uses." Tony leaned back a little, looking thoughtfully at Bruce, "They didn't work on me or you, and I'm thinking it's because of my suit and the Jolly Green Monster, but I don't know exactly why."

Bruce easily settled into the conversation. "Eye contact?"

Tony shook his head. "I doubt it. Everyone was too far away to look directly into her eyes."

"Sound?"

"Most likely. JARVIS filters out my sound system so I'm less likely to be affected by supersonic waves, but I don't remember the Enchantress doing anything that could cause her powers to radiate out."

"Well, she is from another world. Maybe we're going about this wrong. What's logical here may not be in Asgard. I mean, you've seen Thor with a microwave."

Tony snickered, and paused, his mind turning. He glanced over at Bruce with a sparkle in his eyes. "Bruce, you're a genius."

"Not quite like you, but yes, I am. Your point?"

"Pressure waves! She does it by pressure waves!"

"Are you saying that the atmosphere is her medium? But we would have heard something, don't you think?"

"Not if the frequencies are above 20,000 Hertz."

Understanding spread across Bruce's face. "_That's_ why the two of us weren't affected."

Tony stood up quickly, meaning to search through one of his nearby drawers, and immediately regretted it. His back stretched too far with the movement and he fell forward, barely catching himself on the table with an audible gasp. Black spots wavered in his vision and he felt his body trembling as it fought the hot flashes of agony that spread through him.

There was a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down into his seat and holding him so that he couldn't topple over, even though he was inches away from doing so.

"Tony!" came Bruce's voice, fading in and out for a moment so that the billionaire only picked out a few words. He was pretty sure that some override code to JARVIS was spouted out, but he couldn't be sure. At this point, he wasn't even certain whether or not he had forbidden JARVIS to speak the moment Bruce had cornered him in his lab.

Tony reached around to lightly press against his wound. It felt wet and warm to the touch. Damn…he probably pulled out his stitches.

Bruce seemed to have noticed at the same time as Tony because his next words were laced with slight panic. "JARVIS! Call Steve and S.H.I.E.L.D!" barked the doctor.

"My apologies, Dr. Banner. Both Captain Rogers and Director Fury are currently busy. They wish to inform you that your presence is urgently needed," JARVIS replied.

"What? Why?"

"It seems as though the Enchantress has appeared again."

Tony's pain-ridden eyes connected with Bruce's and the latter could see the blind terror written across the Iron Man's face.

"Where?" Bruce said quietly.

"Several miles away from the estate's borders. Captain Rogers and Agents Barton and Romanoff have already left to intercept her."

"What? Why wasn't I informed?" Bruce yelled, already moving around quickly to pull Tony to the couch that Steve had forcefully brought in (he claimed that it was to entice Tony to sleep while working on a project). Tony didn't protest, too numb with fear and pain to work past the lump in the back of his throat and his stomach dropping like a stone.

"Master Stark forbade me to speak while you were in the lab," the calm voice responded.

Bruce inwardly swore and turned to Tony. "Tony, I have to go help them. They don't have a chance against her. Stay here and don't move. JARVIS will call Fury and someone will come help you."

Tony weakly grabbed the edge Bruce's shirt. No words left his mouth, but Bruce knew exactly what Tony wanted to say.

"I promise, nothing will happen to Steve, Clint, Natasha, or myself. I'll do everything in my power to protect all of us. Just…stay here and don't do anything stupid, got it?"

Bruce didn't really wait for an answer – his concern for his teammates had made his eyes tint green. He had to leave before the Other Guy hurt Tony further.

His trademark purple shirt was wrenched out of Tony's grasp and before Tony knew it, Bruce was out of sight. Somewhere in the distance, Tony was sure he heard the Hulk's roar.

It was that sound that roused him. Even as Hulk, Bruce didn't stand a chance against the Enchantress if she pulled the same trick on him. Worse, the Hulk would more than likely fight back against Steve, Clint, and Natasha if they tried to attack him and then Tony would have to deal with everyone injured and a guilty Bruce. It just wouldn't do. That sounded like _way _too much work.

Tony knew how mad the rest of the Avengers would be once they figured out what he was about to do. He would get lectures from all of them and probably get slapped around a little, but he couldn't see any other choice.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled the few feet to reach the far end of his workshop, using the wall as support.

"JARVIS, time to suit up."

"Sir, I advise against it. Director Fury has informed me that medics are ten minutes away."

"Good, tell them to meet us in the field. Let's go, JARVIS."

"Sir, your body will not be strong enough to sustain another battle. You are barely standing as it is."

"I didn't program you to argue with me."

"Actually, sir, you programmed me to help you. I will not be helping you if you put on the Mark VII."

Tony could have sworn he heard concern in the AI's voice, but there was no way in hell he was going to let the Avengers fight on such uneven terms.

Tony gritted his teeth. "JARVIS, I won't say it again. Suit up."

There was a pause. "Understood, sir. Director Fury has redirected the medics to meet you on site. He also said that he was going to put his foot up somewhere unpleasant if you die."

Tony couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"JARVIS, when this is all over, remind me to reprogram you to swear."

"Noted, sir. I look forward to it."

Tony rolled his eyes, just as his suit started build around him. He let out a whine when the back plates snapped into place, but it put enough pressure on his wound so that he knew he wouldn't bleed out on his way to…His thoughts stopped. Where the hell was the fight taking place anyway? Did Bruce even know where to go?

He groaned. "I swear to God, if Bruce ends up halfway across the world instead of where we're supposed to be at, I'm going to throw a bitch fit."

His mask covered his face and he could see a map with a blinking red light on the HUD. Not for the first time, he was glad that he had slipped trackers into all of his team's gear (minus Bruce, but that was because anything he wore was torn into pieces when he Hulked out).

A grim sort of determination took over Tony, making all his pains dull to a murmur, though he couldn't be sure if it was his meds kicking in. "Let's go."

JARVIS fired his thrusters and within seconds, he had burst through his garage's exit and he watched as the scenery zipped past him.

"Estimated time of arrival is two and a half minutes, sir," JARVIS informed.

Tony felt a drop of sweat drip down the side of his brow. Two and a half minutes…that was about as long as it took for Steve and Natasha to make a ragged mess out of him. He swallowed hard.

"Make that a minute and a half, JARVIS."

"Understood."

And then there was nothing else to do but pray to a God he didn't believe in that he wouldn't be too late.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

First of all, I have to apologize for the fluff scene. I'm really bad at writing stuff that has anything to do with romance, but I wanted to work at it. Sorry if it's sappy and terrible.

Secondly, I'm even worse at anything relating to physics, so if my information about sound pressures and waves are wrong, I apologize. I did try looking things up, but I didn't quite understand what I was reading...But speaking of which, did anyone figure out why Tony and Bruce are the only ones unaffected by the Enchantress? Hint: it has nothing to do with being the Hulk or the Iron Man and everything to do with what Clint, Natasha, and Steve are. If not, feel free to guess and either I'll let you know if you're right or not via the review reply or you'll find out in the next chapter.

Thirdly, beef wellington is a recipe that literally takes like two days to make. It takes 24 hrs to make the stock and then 24 hrs to make the sauce. Basically, preparation from scratch takes a really long time and it's supposedly really hard to make properly.

And lastly, anyone notice the significance of code 3473? The numbers spell out something. I feel like Tony would be the kind of person to hide things in plain sight, so if you figure it out, kudos! If not, I'll explain it in the next chapter in like a footnote or something.

Meanwhile, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks to all those who reviewed! Your words really inspired me to write more. I honestly got so stuck after writing the first part, but the reviews really pushed me through my writer's block. Thanks to all those who favorited and followed my story too!

Of course, I always feel a need to say this: please review! If you have any suggestions or anything, I'll love to hear from you!

~ Kanae Yuna


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! I hope you all didn't wait too long for this. I had exams all last week and finals next week, so I've been pretty busy. Again, I want to thank you all for your reviews. I really meant to answer the ones that guessed why Steve, Natasha, and Clint were affected, but between work and school, I just didn't have enough time. Sorry! But here's your answer: for Natasha and Clint, it is because they're spies and they had to train all their senses for their line of work; and Steve is Superhuman. I don't want to give too much away because it's explained in this chapter and will probably be explained further in the next, (though I probably already gave everything away with that...).

Props to charliebrown1234 for figuring out at that code 3473 spells out FIRE. You are brilliant! :)

Also, I know a couple of you wanted me to put Thor in this story. The reason I haven't yet is because I honestly don't know how to write him. His character for me is hard to grasp. I know he's a little silly and kind of...fresh off the boat...on Earth, but I'm basing these characters off what I saw in the movie. Thor seemed pretty serious to me, but the fanfiction that involve him make him seem childish, so I don't know how to go about him. I may put him in towards the end, but I'd rather not write in Thor if he's completely out of character. It's just unfair to him otherwise.

So, as always, I don't own any Marvel products. Please enjoy and review!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Not for the first time, Tony decided that he really hated anything that had anything to do with magic. There were so many things that could go wrong when sorcery was involved. His teammates could decide that he was the enemy and proceed to pummel him to the ground. Or his suit could decide to short out and leave him hanging.

Tony really had no other way to say it: magic sucked – big time.

The Enchantress was much more intelligent than Tony had given her credit for. She had chosen a strategic battlefield; they were exactly 10.3 miles away from his mansion and were in the middle of nowhere. Under normal circumstances, the scenery would have been considered serene – beautiful, even – but the mountainside half-hidden by the surrounding trees was just terrible for the Avengers.

There were too many places to hide – to plan an ambush, and the Enchantress counted on it, choosing to hide behind her illusions once again.

By the time Tony had arrived, Clint and Natasha was nowhere in sight. Steve was in the center of a clearing, holding his shield up defensively. Even hovering unnoticed several feet in the air above the Captain, Tony could see the trail of blood at the side of his head, the cuts through his uniform, and the harshness in his eyes. Otherwise, he seemed alright and Tony felt his worry lessen slightly.

"JARVIS, locate Clint and Natasha," he said.

"Agents Barton and Romanoff are currently circling each other," replied JARVIS, showing their positions with blinking red lights. "Based on their body language, it seems that they are about to engage."

"Emit a frequency range of 2300 Hz and broadcast it. Make sure all three of them hear it."

"Understood, sir."

Tony swiveled around, looking for Banner, but he saw nothing green except for the pine and spruce trees below him. He cursed. "I am _so_ going to throw a bitch fit later…" he muttered and flew towards the Enchantress, who was watching Captain America, Hawkeye, and the Black Widow with such amusement that it just pissed Tony off more.

He didn't know how he managed to surreptitiously catch the Asgardian off-guard. He was the definition of obnoxious and loudness, especially with his suit on. Clint would be so proud of him. Still, in hindsight, it probably wasn't quite a good idea to take on the Enchantress when he was already so injured. It just didn't bode well, but Tony didn't have time to regret his decision. He wasn't sure how long it would take for Banner to show up or for the Asgardian's illusions to fade. He had to buy time for his team, no matter the cost.

Floating behind the offending woman, Tony raised his left hand and fired off his repulsor, wincing as it jarred his rib. Not surprisingly, his attack missed – his sore body preventing him from being accurate.

With her dress singed, the Asgardian whirled on him, her eyes flashing with anger. "You!" she hissed and flung out a hand, throwing a fireball towards him.

Tony easily dodged it and fired off another shot at her. She blocked it with her magic and returned it at him with added power. His back stretched incredibly painfully as he ducked, twisting to avoid it. Gritting his teeth, he flew around, continuously using the various weapons he had on person, but with no real success.

It didn't take very long for him to begin to pant or his vision to wane. He could feel the trickle of blood down his lower back. If it wasn't for his suit putting pressure on the stab wound, he was sure that he would bleed out in a matter of minutes.

The momentary hesitation was just enough for the Enchantress to gain the upper hand. Raising a hand, she conjured invisible chains to wrap tightly around the Iron Man, pinning his arms against his sides and leaving him immobile and at her mercy.

Tony gasped as the bindings tightened, sending waves of hot, burning agony through him. Glancing down, he saw Steve, Clint, and Natasha congregating below him in the clearing.

The Enchantress pulled him closer to her where she stood at the edge of the cliff. He could see her scowling at him, her beauty twisted with such hatred and anger. It was almost sad. Almost.

"Man of Iron, you have been nothing but a nuisance from the start," she growled.

Tony chuckled, glad that his suit hid the pain in his voice, "You know, I was just about to say the same thing about you. Are all Asgardians such pain in the asses? 'Cause I've only met three of your kind. I've got to say, two out of three are terrible odds. I can only come to the conclusion that your planet is full of bitches and bastards."

"How _dare_ you?"

"How dare _you_? You come to _my_ world and think you can fuck around? What the fuck crawled up your ass and died there?"

"Your world has made the son of Odin weak and foolish. I am eliminating the obstacles that prevent him from reaching greatness."

"You're fucking me, right? This _entire _thing was about Thor?" gaped Tony. "You turned my teammates against me for someone who isn't even currently in this world?"

Thor could say goodbye to his Pop-tarts…forever.

The Enchantress grinned. "How did you enjoy my illusions, Man of Iron? Did you enjoy getting struck by the Captain of America? Or have the Bird shoot you? My favorite part was when the Spider stabbed you in the back. How does it feel to have the people most important to you betray you?"

Anger flaring, Tony snarled, "You'll pay for doing that, bitch."

"What can you do? You are powerless against me!" she laughed – the same annoying, irritating sound that haunted his nightmares.

Tony grinned as he saw something huge and green behind the unsuspecting witch.

"_I_ may be, but I'm not alone."

Before the Enchantress had a chance to question him, Tony took in a huge breath before yelling on top of his lungs.

"Hulk! SMASH!"

He heard a roar followed by a scream. And then he was falling.

Shit. He had not thought that one through…

"JARVIS! What happened to the thrusters?" he barked, trying to regain some footing as he plummeted the hundred feet towards the ground.

But there was no response. Realization hit Tony as hard as the ground was going to.

He groaned. "Fuck…I _really _hate magic…"

* * *

Steve winced as something piercing and keening sound hurt his ears. Raising a hand to his ear, he looked around, slightly bewildered. Wasn't he just fighting the Enchantress and her minion? Why was he standing all alone in the middle of a clearing?

There was a thud and very loud cursing directly behind him. He would recognize that voice anywhere and he turned to see Clint sitting on the ground, rubbing his ears as well, glaring at Steve as if he was at fault.

"Who the fuck blew the dog whistle? That shit always gives me headaches!" he grumbled, "I fell out of the tree because of it. Damn it."

Natasha joined him a few seconds later, a look of annoyance on her face. "You know, for once, I hate the training we had to go through. There's a reason why normal humans shouldn't be able to hear that kind of high pitched noise. It's grating on the nerves."

She looked at Steve who was busy fighting through the ringing that was reverberating in his head. "Cap, how're you doing? Your hearing should be sharper than both of ours."

"I'll be fine," Steve replied, frowning as he started to make out words through his comms.

"_How dare _you_? You come to _my _world and think you can fuck around? What the fuck crawled up your ass and died there?"_

That _had _to be Tony. No one else had such a drawling voice that was littered with so many swears. But that wasn't right. Tony was back in the mansion, recovering. They had made sure of it when they secretly slipped out at Fury's call.

"Anyone know what happened to the Enchantress?" asked Natasha.

"And why Tony's bitching in my ear again?" Clint added.

The three shared a look and then panic reached their eyes. Simultaneously, they looked up to see Iron Man hovering about hundred feet and more over them, but he wasn't moving. More accurately, it didn't seem like he _could _move because of some sort of sorcery, and he was talking to the Enchantress. What the hell? Weren't they just fighting her? It wasn't possible for her to make it up the cliff so fast, even with her powers.

"_You're fucking me, right? This _entire _thing was about Thor? You turned my teammates against me for someone who isn't even currently in this world?"_

What? Steve felt his heart sink. His suspicions were slowly proving themselves correct and by the looks of Natasha and Barton's expressions, they had been on the same page as him. They may not be geniuses, but they were far from slow. All the hints were there – it just took a few connections here and there and they had a general idea of what may have happened. They just didn't want to believe it until now.

"_How did you enjoy my illusions, Man of Iron? Did you enjoy getting struck by the Captain of America? Or have the Bird shoot you? My favorite part was when the Spider stabbed you in the back. How does it feel to have the people most important to you betray you?"_

Oh. That explained so much.

Didn't mean it didn't tear Steve's heart apart. He was responsible for breaking Tony's rib. He was responsible for his nightmares. No wonder Tony would flinch whenever Steve came near him. Steve had hurt the man he loved. Who was to tell that he wouldn't do it again?

Natasha was mentally marking her ledger. She thought that she had changed for the better – that she had become someone who could draw the line between friend and foe. That her loyalties didn't waver just because of the mission. Tony was her teammate. Despite how annoying he was, he was still her friend. He offered her sanctuary; he accepted her and let her be who she was without feeling like she was an assassin with a bloody past. And she had literally stabbed him in the back for it. She was a danger to everyone and she hurt the one person who wasn't properly trained to defend himself. God, she was a monster…

Beside her, Clint felt horrified. He had shot one of his best friends? Using the very same weapons that Tony had developed? The irony was lost in Clint's guilt. He was a spy – loyalty meant everything to him, especially someone who he had considered a good friend – family even. He could count on one hand how many people were precious to him. And he still attacked Tony.

Still, as upset as he was, he was more worried about Steve and Natasha at this point: Steve because the gentle soul had hurt his own lover and Natasha because she was responsible for Tony's most grievous injury. No wonder Tony couldn't have Natasha stand behind him. No wonder he had kept all of them at arm's length. Clint wouldn't blame him if he stayed afraid of the three of them for years to come.

"_You'll pay for that, bitch."_

The three of them couldn't agree more.

"_What can you do? You are powerless against me!"_

"I _may be, but I'm not alone."_

Those words could never be truer.

"_Hulk! SMASH!"_ Tony had shouted, making the three soldiers cringe at the loudness. Their ears were still ringing from the dog whistle that they now assumed Tony had released.

Relief filled them as they saw the Enchantress thrown a distance by a giant green arm, but they quickly felt alarm replace that feeling when they saw Tony fall down.

There was a brief flashback to the fight with Loki – after Tony had tumbled out of the portal, propelled by the shockwaves of the nuke.

"Something's wrong…" breathed Steve as he watched his lover flip around like a leaf in a gale.

"Shit, he's not slowly down!" Barton swore, springing into action.

He pressed a button on his arrow case, changing the tip of his weapon. Swiftly, he drew it out and carefully took aim. With a twang, the arrow flew straight, piercing through the rock wall near the top. Trailing behind it was a thick rope that was connected to Barton. Hawkeye pressed another button and he was jerked off the ground, pulled along the retracting properties towards Tony.

The only thing missing from his escapade was the Tarzan yell as he grabbed Tony from midair.

"Look who dropped out of the sky. Nice to see you, Bird Brain," Tony said, his sarcasm a welcome sound.

"What the hell are you doing here, Tony?" grunted Clint. He could feel his right arm strain from holding the two of them up.

"Enjoying the mountain air."

Clint could _hear_ Tony rolling his eyes behind his mask.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" Tony snapped, "Saving all our asses, of course, because you guys just can't last without me."

Tony glanced down. They weren't too far from the ground now – they were now at a distance that only a bone or two would break instead of the entire body. Steve and Natasha were lingering directly beneath them, concern in their stances. "Good to see my plan worked," he sighed, thankful that they were no longer under the Enchantress' illusions.

"What plan?"

Tony deflected, "Think you can get us down?"

"I'm working on it."

"Well, you may want to work on it faster."

"Why?"

His question was answered by their sudden slight drop. Glaring at the rope, Clint could see it begin to unravel, breaking under their weight.

"Getting a little pudgy there, aren't you, Hawkeye?" quipped Tony.

"Says the person wearing a suit of metal. Can you fly us out of here?"

"Nope. Magic fucked up my system and I can't access JARVIS. I'm blind."

It was only then when Barton realized that he didn't see the usual light shining from the Iron Man's eyes.

Shit.

Barton could easily pull some aerobatic move to save himself, but he now had Tony to worry about – a severely injured Tony who probably would die on impact.

"Cap!" Clint said loudly. "You ready?"

"_Ready for what?" _came Steve's reply on the comms.

"Let's play a game of catch."

Horror filled the genius as he realized what Clint was planning. "If he drops me, I will fucking _end_ you," hissed Tony.

"Stay alive then."

And then Tony was falling again.

This really needed to stop. It wasn't like he particularly enjoyed the sensation of his stomach threatening to turn over. But he didn't feel worried or scared, even in the slightest. Because he had faith in Steve. Kind, strong Steve would never let him down.

And sure enough, he felt those familiar muscular arms surround him, embracing him in a tight, protecting hug, effectively ending his descent.

He sank into Steve's hold. For the first time, he hated his armor, wishing to be able to physically feel Steve and his warmth.

"Tony, you alright?" came Steve's breathless and worried voice.

Tony responded by throwing back his mask and smiling up at those gorgeous blue eyes. "I'm fine now," Tony returned, knowing full well how anxious Steve must have been feeling with his suit out of commission, though it was far from what he was feeling.

As much as he was glad that Steve did catch him, the Capsicle's arms were as hard as rock with all his muscles and he knew that his body was going to hate it in a few minutes. Now that he was safe, he could feel the adrenaline masking his pain disappear quickly.

Tony twitched, biting back a moan as his back wound made itself known again, this time with fervor, as if it was upset at Tony for putting it aside. There was a dull roar in his ears and his vision dimmed as lightning ran rampart through his body.

Steve could see how pale Tony was becoming with each passing second, the sheen of sweat on his brow, and how harsh his breathing had become. Gently, he lowered the two of them to the ground so that Tony had better support for him to check on his injuries.

He made to release Tony's armor, but Tony's hand grabbed at him.

"D-don't…" he gasped.

"Tony, I know it hurts, but I have to take a look at it."

"Stop," Natasha said suddenly, coming around to join the two. "I'm guessing that suit's the only reason why he hasn't passed out from blood loss yet. We need Banner."

"He's a little preoccupied," Clint said, his bow at the ready as he stood on guard next to Tony. "With that bitch upstairs."

Tony wasn't sure how Clint managed to make it down without a problem. He couldn't really think about that anyway. He was struggling to stay conscious, mentally running through complex quantum physics to distract him from the burning torment he was trapped in, but he was failing miserably.

"You mean witch?" Steve asked, unable to resist.

"No, no. I definitely meant bitch."

Tony smirked at that and his eyes sparkled with mischievousness as they connected with Clint's. "Bitch fight."

Clint grinned at Tony's words and looked hopefully at Natasha. "That'll be so hot, Tasha!"

"You do realize that you're calling me a bitch, right? You'll pay for it later, Clint," Natasha said, almost off-handedly. She would have put some malice behind her words, but she was busy stretching and cracking her neck before nodding at Steve. "But I do have to give her a piece of my mind. Cap, will you do me the honors?"

Clint shifted, taking over Steve's hold on Tony so that the soldier could grab his shield.

"You think you can make it?" Steve questioned.

"Yeah, yeah…I think so."

"Keep her up there," warned Clint, his grip on Tony subconsciously tightening. If the fight came down to them, Tony would be in danger.

"Got it. Let's go, Cap."

Natasha backed away several feet and then sprinted forward. Steve bent down, keeping his shield facing upwards. The moment Natasha leapt onto it, he used all his strength to throw her upwards as far as he could.

She flew, aided by Steve's strength and her perfect timing, going higher than she had ever before. For a brief second, she thought she wasn't going to make it, but luck was on her side and she managed to grab on to the edge of the top of the cliff with her fingers.

Anger fueling her more than anything, she scrambled upwards and out of Steve's and Clint's sight. Sounds of Hulk's roars and furious screams from the Enchantress could be heard in the matter of seconds.

Tony could see how much the two were itching to join in, though he didn't know that their motives were not for justice. Instead, the three soldiers felt as if every fiber of their beings was fired by the need for revenge.

The Enchantress had used them to hurt Tony and she needed to pay a thousand times over.

"You know, I'm not opposed to you guys kicking her ass as well. I'll just…um, sit here and wait for you all."

"We're not leaving you alone, Tony," Steve said, settling down next to Clint.

If anyone saw them, they probably would have found the sight odd, to say the least. It was always weird to see Tony in his suit without his helmet. Add on to the fact that he was pretty much laying in Hawkeye's lap with Captain America stroking his hair and cheek – it just made for an unusual picture.

But Tony wasn't complaining. Their actions soothed him, chasing away his pain. He closed his eyes with a satisfied hum, and let their caring presences lull him into a daze where his injuries were mere shadows in his mind.

Yet, something was off. Their silence was too heavy, and Tony unwillingly opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows at the two.

"What?"

Steve looked away, staring at the ground. Shame burned on his face. Clint refused to make eye contact and his face was wiped clean. Both of their shoulder slumped.

Ah hell.

Tony felt his stomach drop and he swallowed hard. "You heard her, didn't you?" whispered Tony.

Steve's hand fell away and Tony instantly missed the contact. "I'm so sorry, Tony. I never meant to hurt you…" Steve's voice was broken.

"Don't be stupid. There's nothing to be sorry for," he shot back. "That goes for you too, Feathers."

Clint just wordlessly shook his head.

But if Tony wanted to argue more, he never got a chance. Wind swirled around them as a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter found them. There was barely enough room in the clearing for it land, forcing Clint and Steve to use their bodies to shield Tony from any flying debris.

Within minutes, the three of them were surrounded by medics.

Steve and Clint handed Tony off to them, trusting that he was in good hands, but Tony was not pleased.

"No, put me down!" he shouted as the paramedics strapped him down to a stretcher.

"Tony," Steve sighed, following their movements. "I know you don't like doctors, but they're just trying to help you."

"We're in the middle of a fight!"

"Not anymore." Clint pointed at the cliff top. Banner and Natasha were both looking down at them.

"_She got away, but I highly doubt she'll show her face anytime soon,"_ Natasha said over the comms. _"Hulk got her good."_

She sounded extremely satisfied and smug.

"_When Stark is situated, can someone get us down?"_

"S.H.I.E.L.D., we're clear. Take Iron Man back to his home for treatment. Black Widow and Dr. Banner need transportation," said Captain Rogers.

"_Stark still alive?" _asked Fury, his voice gruff.

"Yes, sir. Medics are on-site now."

"_Good. Keep me updated."_

"Yes, sir."

Steve nodded at the medics who started wheeling Tony away. Tony reached for Steve, grabbing his hand.

"Steve, it's not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself."

Steve could only shake his head and smile at Tony sadly. "I'll see you back at home. I have to get Banner and Natasha."

"Steve!" But Tony was literally wrenched away and the next thing he knew, he was already in the air, separated from his team.

"Mr. Stark," said a doctor, "We need to remove your armor."

Tony gritted his teeth, feeling more frustrated than anything at this point. "Fuck off."

"Sir, your injuries are severe."

"I'm aware of that," he snapped. "Fully aware. Turn around and pick up the others. No one is touching me unless your name is Banner and you can turn into a giant jolly green monster."

"Mr. Stark…"

Tony used the sharp edges of his suit to rip through the stretcher. He pointed his repulsor at the nearest doctor, thankful that his suit was working again now that the Enchantress' hold on it had disappeared with her. The medic trembled in place. Tony wouldn't _actually_ do anything to harm innocents, but then and again, most people didn't know him as well as his team, relying more on tabloids and the act that he kept up in public, and he used that to his advantage.

"Turn this damn helicopter around, _now_."

Fury was going to be _so _pissed once he found out what Tony did, but he didn't really care. Right now, he was worried about Steve, Natasha, and Clint.

His own health could wait.

Staying alive didn't mean anything if his family distanced themselves from him because of unnecessary guilt, but things were never simple for Tony Stark.

In hindsight, it was his own damn fault for thinking that the danger had passed. The Enchantress had gotten away - if she had been any other opponent, none of the Avengers would have rested until she was brought down. As it were, she had managed to screw up their team's dynamics by thoroughly distracted them all with her actions.

He really should have seen it coming.

As the helicopter neared the battle site, Tony heard alarms blaring from the cockpit and saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents looking very confused. His instincts screamed at him and he instantly flipped his helmet down in place, making sure JARVIS turned on his comms to his team.

"Hey, what's going on?" he shouted as the helicopter started to swerve uneasily.

No one answered him. Before him, he watched in horror as the medics' expressions went slack and their eyes took on a dull, bluish tinge - much like Hawkeye's when he was under Loki's control.

There was a rush of winds by him and a crackle of lightning. Suddenly, Tony found himself face-to-face with the Enchantress.

The Asgardian was pale and clearly in pain. She gripped at her side where blood pooled from underneath her fingers. Tony couldn't see how serious her injury was, but the amount of blood she was losing wasn't healthy for anyone - not even a goddess. Yet, it didn't seem to deter her magic.

Tony could feel the helicopter come to a standstill. Dread became stuck in Tony's throat and he felt his mouth go dry. So he handled his fear like he always did - with wit and sarcasm.

Unable to stop himself, he smirked under his mask, "Remind me to send a gift basket to Hulk. Payback's a bitch, isn't it, Enchantress?"

_"Tony?" _came Steve's extremely worried voice. _"Is she with you right now?"_

"Nice of you to join me," Tony continued, answering Steve's question as well, "I'd ask how you're doing, but I don't really give a fucking damn."

"You will pay for spilling a goddess' blood, mortal!" she hissed.

"Hey, it wasn't me that took out half your side. Throw it down with Bruce! And this time, let me watch as he whips your ass again."

"Do you honestly think your quick tongue can have any affect on me? You're powerless without that suit of iron!"

Tony shrugged. "Let's see. You're bleeding on the floor of the helicopter. And I'm completely suited up and we're two minutes away from my team. Don't think you'll fare too well in this scenario. Might as well let the agents go or this damn bird is going to fall out of the sky faster than Hulk can wipe your ass on the floor."

He knew that at least one person on his team, if not all, would understand his carefully chosen words that revealed his location and situation.

_"We see the chopper, Tony. You're close to us. Hang on, we're coming for you," _said Clint.

The archer sounded out of breath. How odd. Tony had never heard that before. It did nothing to reassure his growing uneasiness. Why did he have a feeling that they would be too late?

"What do you even want from me, Enchantress?" Tony asked. "As you said, I'm pretty useless outside of this suit. Why the hell did you come looking for me? It's not like _I _did anything to you."

"Loki told me of the brilliance of your mind. I need you to build me a portal back to Asgard."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will die."

"You'll kill me either or. I'd rather have all this end with me fighting 'til my last breath."

The Enchantress smiled wickedly, "I think I will be able to convince you otherwise."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Look, last time someone tried to make me build them something, I made the Iron Man suit and blew them all up. I highly doubt you'd do any better."

She shouted something and Tony responded with emitting the high pitched frequency again, countering any illusions she might have cast. Had he known how aggravated the Enchantress got with the sound, he would have never done it.

A bloodcurdling scream filled the enclosed space. Flinching, he gaped at the sight of the Enchantress clutching the sides of her head, covering her ears with her hands. The windows of the helicopter wavered for a brief second before everything shattered; the metal bolts holding down the seats floated into the air. And then the helicopter started to nosedive; the gravity made Tony smash into the ceiling.

Lights burst in his eyes as he felt something dig into his back wound. His thoughts came to a stuttering stop as he watched the Enchantress try to kill one of the agents who had snapped out of her illusions.

Without thinking of the consequences, Tony fired one of his repulsors. The resulting explosion struck true, hitting the Enchantress straight in the chest, but it didn't stop there. It blasted her through the side of the helicopter and she went flying out of sight, leaving behind a huge gaping hole.

Calculations flashed in Tony's mind and he forced himself into action. He probably had twenty seconds before they were all fucked. He steadied himself with his thrusters and reached out to help the two agents that were pressed against the wall with the pressure of the atmosphere rushing in. Quickly, he handed them backpacks containing parachutes.

"Get out of here!" he shouted.

"Mr. Stark, we are responsible for your safety!" one of them yelled back.

"I have my suit. I'll be fine. I gotta get the pilots. Now get!"

The medics reluctantly nodded and let themselves be taken by the currents, escaping the dying helicopter. Tony flew towards the cockpit, wincing as he kept banging into the bird's sides.

"Goddamn!" he swore under his breath before gripping the back of the pilot's chair tightly. "Hey, what the hell are you still doing here?" he barked.

The pilot stared at him with wide eyes, fumbling with his seatbelt. It was stuck. Tony had a funny déjà vu back to the time when those raptors were trying to shoot him out the sky, and he punched the contraption, making a mental note to upgrade military seats. The next thing the pilot and his co-pilot knew, they were being tossed out of the plane with parachutes attached to them.

Tony meant to follow, using the hole that the Enchantress had left from (the Iron Man suit couldn't fit through the space that the pilots had gone through), but luck was not on his side. A metal pole of the stretcher came flying towards him out of nowhere (how it even broke off was beyond him) and pierced through his armor and his left thigh, pinning him to the wall of the helicopter.

A scream escaped him and he feebly struggled to pull himself free, knowing full well that he could bleed out once he was, but anything was better than going down in a fiery crash.

The HUD blared red at him and he felt his heart sink to his toes as he read the calculations.

Time had run out – his twenty seconds were up.

Shit.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

Notes to consider: 2200 Hz is usually the maximum frequency that normal humans can hear. Anything above, as in 2300 Hz is usually the range that dog's can hear, but some humans can hear it too. (I've tested it; I can actually hear a dog whistle. Does that mean I'm just as awesome as Steve? Cuz that'll be awesome. Lol!) So that's why Clint, Natasha, and Steve can hear it so clearly - it's because of their spy training and Steve's serum. Also, I'll explain why the Enchantress needs to return to Asgard in the next chapter.

Anyway, please let me know if there are any inaccuracies and discrepancies, alright?

As usual, I hope you enjoyed and please review!

~ Kanae Yuna


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Steve still couldn't feel his limbs; the Enchantress' words echoed in his mind over and over again, each time feeling like a dagger striking through his heart. His entire body was numbed, like the time when he was frozen, and it made his blood freeze within his veins. For the moment, he wasn't Captain America or even an Avenger. He was scared little Steve Rogers from before the serum – helpless and useless to be able to protect the people most important to him.

He was vaguely aware that Clint was talking to him, proposing that they joined Bruce and Natasha on the mountain so that it would be easier for S.H.I.E.L.D. to pick them all up. Nodding, he mechanically grabbed onto Clint who used the same arrow contraption to pull them to the top of the cliff where Bruce and Natasha waited.

Bruce cocked his head, frowning, "Where's Tony?"

"Medics got him," answered Clint, staring at them to make sure that they had no injuries. "Didn't you see them?"

"Yeah, I just expected at least one of you guys to join him. You know that the medics won't be able to handle him."

There was a pause. "We…didn't think it was a good idea."

"Why the hell not?"

Steve looked away, Clint started fumbling with a patch on his uniform, and Natasha's jaw clenched hard as she tried not to look like she wanted to kill someone. The scientist easily connected the dots.

"You know what happened…"

At that, Steve's head snapped up. "He told you?" The hurt was not unveiled in his voice.

"I basically forced it out of him right before the battle," shrugged Bruce, "He doesn't blame you guys, you know. His reactions to you are just his body's way of protecting him."

Clint rolled his eyes. "That's comforting. He subconsciously fears us. That's great."

"You know what I mean, Clint. Look, there's a reason why he didn't tell you guys. Don't make matters worse by thinking too hard about all of this." His dark eyes settled on Steve, and if the Captain didn't know any better, Bruce was a little angry with him.

Bruce poked him hard in the chest, ignoring the fact that Steve grimaced at the pressure on a healing bruise. "I expected better from you, Rogers. You know Tony better than anyone and why he does the things he does. And you leave him alone when you know _exactly _how he feels about hospitals and doctors? How do you think he'll take that?"

Steve felt his heart stutter. Now he _really _wanted to cry...but that still didn't change the fact that he hurt Tony. He _broke _his boyfriend's _fucking _ribs! He didn't know if he could take any more of Tony flinching away from him or the sheer terror in his eyes when Steve came near him, especially now that he knew the reason behind Tony's actions. He didn't think he could stop himself from breaking down if Tony looked at him like he was seconds away from tearing down all of Tony's walls and destroying anything and everything that made Tony as amazing and loving as he was. Because Steve _did _know Tony – the Tony who had opened to his heart to no one else but him and trusted him with his everything…

He knew that all the nukes, aliens, or any other weapon couldn't hurt Tony as much as he could. The only things that could truly bring down the Tony Stark and make sure that he didn't get back up were the four people standing on this mountain (and the Asgardian hammer god).

And they managed to betray that hard-earned trust so easily.

It wasn't something they could easily move past, no matter what Bruce said. Looking around, Steve could tell that the spies felt the same way.

Bruce growled, his eyes tinting green. "I swear to God, if you guys hurt him anymore, I won't let you off easy..."

"Shut up," Natasha said out of nowhere.

Surprise glinted on Bruce's slightly green face, "Excuse me?!"

"It's not you. Do you guys hear that?" She pressed her hand to her right ear.

Steve and Clint immediately followed suit. The three frowned as they heard quiet static for a brief second before voices broke through - one specific voice that they would recognize anywhere.

_"Remind me to send a gift basket to Hulk. Payback's a bitch, isn't it, Enchantress?"_

A cold chill ran down their spines.

"What's going on?" asked Bruce.

Steve ignored him and breathed out, his worry bleeding through his voice. "Tony? Is she with you right now?"

_"Nice of you to join me," _answered Tony. Steve had a feeling that Tony didn't direct that statement to the Enchantress alone. _"I'd ask how you're doing, but I don't really give a fucking damn."_

_"You will pay for spilling a goddess' blood, mortal!" _hissed the Enchantress.

_"Hey, it wasn't me that took out half your side. Throw it down with Bruce! And this time, let me watch as he whips your ass again."_

Leave it up to Tony Stark to be the only one who would be snarky in the face of danger, not that it surprised anyone anymore. Though, Clint had to admit - he really would have liked to see Hulk kick her ass to outer space.

_"Do you honestly think your quick tongue can have any effect on me? You're powerless without that suit of iron!"_

_"Let's see. You're bleeding on the floor of the helicopter. And I'm completely suited up and we're two minutes away from my team. Don't think you'll fare too well in this scenario. Might as well let the agents go or this damn bird is going to fall out of the sky faster than Hulk can wipe your ass on the floor."_

Tony wasn't a soldier, but he certainly wasn't a fool. With just that statement, they all clearly knew the situation and more importantly, where Tony was.

Snapping into action, Clint jabbed at Bruce. "Hulk up. Enchantress got Tony again."

Bruce didn't need any other bidding and an inhumane roar rang in their ears as the Hulk transformed before their eyes. Disregarding her own safety, Natasha leapt onto Hulk's back, clutching his huge shoulder with her dear life, knowing full well that she was probably the best option to get to Tony. After all, she was the lightest burden on the Hulk and he actually liked her second best to Tony himself. But the Hulk didn't like the idea of someone on him and he shook himself, almost flinging Natasha off.

Natasha patted Hulk's hard skin comfortingly and spoke to him in soft tones. "It's just me, Hulk. It's Tasha."

The Hulk recognized her voice and slowed his movements, trying to turn to look at her curiously.

"Hulk, the Enchantress got Tony. You remember him, don't you?" she said gently.

Hulk hesitated and nodded.

"We need you to go save him. Can you do that? Please?"

Withoutwarning, Hulk jumped, bounding off at a blinding speed. Within seconds, they were out of sight, leaving Clint and Steve to rush after them on foot.

The two didn't think they had run so hard before - not even when their own lives depended on it. Blood pounded in their ears, but it didn't deter Steve or Clint from hearing the helicopter seconds before they saw it.

"We see the chopper, Tony. You're close to us. Hang on, we're coming for you," said Clint, hating himself for sounding so out of breath.

Tony responded with a snappish question to the Enchantress. _"What do you even want from me, Enchantress?"_ he asked. _"As you said, I'm pretty useless outside of this suit. Why the hell did you come looking for me? It's not like I did anything to you."_

_"Loki told me of the brilliance of your mind. I need you to build me a portal back to Asgard."_

_"And if I refuse?"_

_"You will die."_

_"You'll kill me either or. I'd rather have all this end with me fighting 'til my last breath."_

_"I think I will be able to convince you otherwise."_

_"Look, last time someone tried to make me build them something, I made the Iron Man suit and blew them all up. I highly doubt you'd do any better."_

There was a shout from the Enchantress, a high pitched keening followed by something shattering loudly, and then nothing but static.

"Tony? Tony!" shouted Steve. "Fuck!"

At the curse, Clint shot him a look that was torn between amusement and panic (because Captain America just didn't swear), but said nothing and quickened his pace, darting between the trees and obstacles. He came skidding to a stop a couple of minutes later, swearing under his breath as the road before him abruptly ended and dropped down several hundred feet to a rocky chasm.

About fifty feet before him was S.H.I.E.L.D's helicopter, frozen in space - too far for either of them to jump. And Clint didn't have the skills that Natasha had, meaning he couldn't even make it with Steve's help.

"Where's Hulk?" breathed Steve.

"Don't know...Shit."

"Can't you shoot something?"

Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "I would, but anything I do will puncture a hole in the goddamn plane and send them spiraling to the ground."

An explosion made the two flinch and they recognized the signs of Tony's repulsor blast which was followed by the Enchantress bursting out of the chopper.

"Or, he could do it himself..." muttered Clint. "At least he got a hit in."

"Clint...is it just me or is the helicopter falling too fast?"

Steve's question was answered by the sight of two agents jumping from the smoking plane. A few tense seconds later, their parachutes deployed just as the two pilots were thrown out.

The Avengers held their breath, just waiting for Tony to appear. He _was _suited up; even if he was injured, JARVIS would ensure that Tony would reach safety. But their friend never showed and the helicopter dived past their line of sight, heading straight to the ground far below.

"Tony!" screamed Steve, about to throw himself off the cliff, but Clint's arms hooked underneath Steve's armpits and pulled him back, swinging him around to shake his friend as they faced each other.

"Let go of me!" Steve growled.

"Stop it! You're not going to help him by committing suicide, Steve!" yelled Clint.

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" Steve cried back.

Clint gritted his teeth in anger. Something flashed in his eyes that made Steve suddenly remember that the ever amusing prankster was a first-class assassin.

Hawkeye released Steve "There's only one thing we can do." He cracked his neck as a cold, detached gaze filled his blue eyes. "Make the bitch pay."

* * *

Natasha felt the winds rush against her face, almost unable to keep her eyes as the trees whistled past her. She could feel the ripples of Hulk's muscles beneath her as he ran. It seemed that the Other Guy knew exactly where to go and Natasha could only trust the green guy's nose and instincts.

Her sharp ears caught the sound of a chopper first; then she saw it suspended in mid-air. She grinned, her fingers twitching to the sheath she had hidden on her waist.

"That's it. Tony's right over there," she said to Hulk, keeping her tone soft and kind.

Hulk grunted and increased his speed, jumping off the cliff, but not towards the helicopter. As he fell downwards, he dug his massive arms into the side of the mountain, catching himself every ten feet to slow down his descent. He could feel Natasha digging into him, almost screaming at him to go back up, but he merely shook his head and landed heavily on the ground, staring upwards at the chopper.

"Hulk!" Natasha yelled, "Save Tony!"

Hulk grunted again, this time angrily.

Realization dawned on Natasha and she wanted to smack herself for letting her emotions get ahead of her. Logically, she should have known that the Hulk couldn't have jumped onto the helicopter. He would have made them all crash and probably ended up killing both Tony and her in the process. No, he had to wait for the precise moment where he could spring into action.

Natasha patted Hulk on the shoulder in quiet thanks for reining her in and climbed towards his arm. She turned to nod at the Other Guy who grabbed her and threw her up high. She made some quick scrambles and clung onto the wall with a small grumble of pain as she crashed into the hard rock wall.

Right then, she heard an explosion from above and turned her head. Ten seconds later, she saw the fiery plane fall past her and she released her hold, pushing with her strong legs to dive-bomb to the broken aircraft.

There was a bloodcurdling scream – one that should not have been so familiar to her, and she urged her body to move faster.

With lithe movements, she scampered across the metal and gripped the edge of it tightly. Using momentum, she propelled herself into the helicopter with a smooth flip and landed lightly on her feet.

She quickly looked around, unable to stop a gasp from escaping her. To her right, Tony was hunched over, grabbing desperately at a long, one-inch thick piece of metal pole sticking out from his left thigh.

"Tony!" she exclaimed rushing forward.

"Tasha!" gasped Tony, his voice strained even with the metallic tone, but the agent could hear the relief in his words.

There was no time for comfort or sarcasm, however. They both knew how close they were to the ground.

"Get out of here, Natasha!" Tony hissed. As much as he was glad beyond reasoning to see her, there was no reason to drag her down with him. If he was going to die here, he was sure as hell not going to bring a teammate with him, even though a small part of him wished that she would stay, if only so that he wouldn't be alone in his last moments. And he hated himself for thinking it.

"Tasha, we have, at best, a couple of seconds before this chopper blows to kingdom come. Get the fuck out of here!" he snarled, trying, but failing to push her away when she came near.

"Not without you." Natasha reached into her boots, pulling out double daggers. Steely, she didn't even hesitate as she stabbed them through the wall behind Tony, burying each of them on either side of Tony's head. There was no pause in her quick moves, but it didn't mean that she didn't feel Tony still in fear and she felt the familiar pangs of guilt lick at her.

Ignoring it, she gripped the hilts tightly and pressed herself against the Iron Man's body as closely as she could, wrapping herself like a seatbelt around the genius. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the side of Tony's armored neck.

"Hold on, Stark," she said quietly, "This is going to hurt."

Tony swallowed hard, trepidation filling him. "Wha-what is?"

The response came in the form of the helicopter's descent coming to an abrupt stop. Suddenly, all of the gravity came biting back, jarring all of Tony's injuries. The loud sounds of the metal crushing around him did little to help and he couldn't help but let out another scream of pain as he felt the pole in his leg shift.

But he knew it could have been a lot worse if Natasha hadn't shoved him against the wall and keeping him in place as best as she could. Didn't mean that it didn't fucking hurt…

He groaned; his vision flickered, bordering on darkness. He couldn't figure out what hurt most: the scorching agony from his back ripping open again or the blinding pain in his left thigh.

"Stark, you conscious?" asked Natasha, stepping back from him.

He had to gather his thoughts to respond, which was saying something when his brain usually never shut up. "Wish I wasn't…" moaned Tony, his head lolling forward.

Natasha kept her hand on his left shoulder, pushing him against the wall so that he couldn't fall and rip apart his leg more. "Take off your helmet, Stark," she growled.

Even though he knew that she only told him to do that was because she was feeling anxious staring at a never changing face, Tony couldn't help himself, "Miss my pretty mug that much, huh?"

"Either you take it off or I tear it off. Your choice."

The helmet released upwards, revealing a very, _very_ pale Tony Stark. There was blood, grime, and sweat mixed upon his face. Pain made the lines on his face deeper; the dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes of his exhaustion. It looked as though he had aged five years in just one hour.

But Natasha couldn't help feel extremely relieved that Tony, despite all the injuries, was alive and breathing.

A smile cracked on her face without her realizing it, and Tony gave her a small grin back.

She reached up to her right ear and pressed on the comm. "Guys, I'm going to need your help."

The response was almost immediate. _"Tony?" _breathed Steve. There were sounds of a woman screaming in the background and Natasha smirked at noise.

"He's going to be okay, but he's kind of stuck."

"_Thank God!"_ Steve exclaimed in relief.

A grunt. _"Location?" _came Clint's strained voice.

She turned to Tony. "Can you track them?"

Tony slowly shook his head. "The Enchantress fucked up my suit again. System's busted to hell."

Sighing, Natasha could only think of one thing. "Clint, follow the smoke."

Steve was the first to speak, _"I see it, there!" _

Natasha could imagine Rogers pointing at them from a distance.

"_Got it. Be there in five."_

Silence fell. Natasha got distracted by Tony's shuddering breaths. She looked at him, taking in his trembling body and his drooping eyelids. He looked like he was seconds from passing out, though she doubted he would. There was too much adrenaline running through his veins. He would be wired until shock settled in.

"You're going to be okay, Tony," she said sincerely.

Tony rolled his eyes, wincing as his involuntary movements made his injuries ache and throb. "Great. Tell me that when you get this damn thing out of my leg."

"Natasha?" Bruce's voice suddenly popped up.

She turned to see a half-naked Banner gently climbing through the sharp, torn edges of the helicopter. He picked his way through carefully, making sure he wouldn't step on any of the broken pieces of glass with his bare feet.

"Good to see that the Other Guy was able to do something," Bruce smiled.

Tony laughed hoarsely, connecting the dots easily. "Jolly Green Monster learned a new trick! And here I thought he was limited to 'smash' alone."

"You feeling okay, Tony? No nausea or anything?" Banner asked, already stepping into his doctor shoes as he bent down to examine the entry wound.

Tony swallowed, closing his eyes briefly to gather himself. "A…a little lightheaded."

His right leg suddenly collapsed, wrenching a cry from his lips. Bruce darted forward and wrapped Tony's right arm around his shoulders while Natasha did the same to his left. Their combined strength was enough to lift him to an upright position.

Trusting them fully, Tony let them carry his entire weight as he tried to fight through the waves of pain that crashed through him.

He panted heavily, searching for words to break the worried silence. "When this is all over," he breathed, "I wanna play catch with Hulky."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Sure, if you want to be the ball."

Pushing the joking aside, Tony quietly watched his blood pool around him. Calculations ran through his mind and a thin veil of fear started to numb the pain. He swallowed hard, thinking of what would happen if he died from something as stupid as blood loss. For one, he would never live it down. He had always expected to die in the middle of sex or saving the goddamn world, but not because some bitch was upset that she was unloved. He wouldn't have to worry about his company – Stark Industries was in the good hands of Pepper. Sure, stocks would go down for weeks after his death, but Pepper was talented. She could save it.

Bruce would probably disappear off somewhere again, living a meaningless life away from civilizations. Who knew what Clint and Natasha would do? The world wouldn't stop turning for him and they were top S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. There would always be missions for them that were probably far above Tony's clearance (not that it mattered with his hacking skills).

And Steve…Tony couldn't even think about how much agony Steve would go through losing another person he loved. And Tony would be the cause of it all. It just broke his heart and suddenly, he really, really wanted Steve.

He wanted to see those blue eyes so full of love and brightness. He wanted those strong arms to hold him tight, making him feel safe and unafraid of the undying possibility of someone literally ripping out his life force. He wanted to hear Steve's voice whispering, _"I love you,"_ in his ear and feeling his hot breath on his ear.

Maybe he whimpered from all those thoughts rushing about in his head or his face twisted in his fear, but the next thing he knew, Natasha was hugging him. He had to do a double take: _Natasha_ was _hugging_ him.

The surprise was enough to drag him out of whatever revere he had been lost in.

"Wha…?" he started.

"Tony," she started. She had called him Tony! "You're going to be fine. You're going to make it."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably; emotions and him mixed as well as oil and water. "What brought this up? Of course I'll make it. I'm like…a cockroach. Can't be killed."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "A cockroach?"

"I have a fucking pole stuck through me. Forgive me if my mind isn't on par to my usual standards," Tony snapped, but there was no anger within his words. He paused and glanced at Natasha, an odd sort of pleading in his yes. "Steve?" he asked hopefully.

"Clint, ETA?" she questioned.

"_Ten seconds."_

"Tony?!" came Steve's voice, strained and worried, around the same time Clint responded. The super soldier ducked into the helicopter, completely ignoring everything but his boyfriend; his feet crunched over the glass as he took in the sight before him.

Tony couldn't deny the rush of relief that he felt, as if his world had suddenly righted itself. For a brief moment, he didn't even feel any of his injuries. Steve's presence steadied him and he just knew that everything was alright now.

"Steve…" he croaked, the happiness completely unveiled in his tone.

Steve rushed forward and held Tony's cheeks between his large hands, pressing his lips onto Tony's. Tony leaned into the kiss, savoring the taste of Captain America. Steve was first to break away, but he merely touched their foreheads together, sighing.

"I was so worried," Steve said quietly.

Tony just smiled at him. "Still alive and kicking. Well, not so much kicking anymore…"

Clint poked his head through the helicopter. "Is that a pole sticking through your leg?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Damn, I had one of those before. Not pleasant."

"Ya think, Feather Brains?" Tony retorted.

"We have to cut him out," Natasha said to Steve. "Can't risk pulling it out and have him bleed out."

Steve stepped back, frowning. "Okay, how are we going to do that?"

"Natasha and I can't move or Tony might hurt himself more," added Bruce. "Clint, you got anything that can cut through metal?"

"Yeah, hang on."

And the archer disappeared from view again, much to Bruce, Natasha, and Tony's confusion.

There were sounds of grunting, swearing, and something being dragged. And then a grin spread on their faces when Clint struggled into the helicopter, pulling a bound, gagged, and unconscious Enchantress behind him. She looked even worse than Tony. Blood had coagulated in her blond hair, bruises decorated her face, and there were several cuts all over her body. Burns covered her chest, her left side was bleeding profusely, and there were a couple of arrows piercing through each of her hands. But she was breathing still, surprisingly.

With a huff, he dropped her unceremoniously down on a pile of debris, feeling satisfied at the low moan that escaped from her, and turned around to see everyone staring at him.

"What? Couldn't leave her outside unguarded, could I?" His blue eyes were a picture of feigned innocence that only made Tony want to laugh.

"How did you guys manage it?" asked Bruce.

"Well, _you_ took out a chunk of her left side and Tony managed to fuck her up further in his little skirmish with her," shrugged Clint, walking up to him. There was pride in his voice that didn't go unheeded. "It was easy sauce for us once we hunted her down."

Steve shuddered. "And I was reminded why Director Fury ranks him as a top assassin."

Tony shook his head, "First of all, Clint, 'easy sauce'? Terrible. Remind me to update your vernacular when we get back home. Second of all, Steve, honey, don't go blowing up his ego when it's already so huge. He'll explode!"

"You sure we aren't talking about you, Stark?" quipped Natasha.

"Natasha made a funny! We have to celebrate!"

"How 'bout we wait until you can walk around without leaving blood trails to do that?" Clint replied smoothly, already working deftly around the Iron Man suit with a laser in hand.

Tony crinkled his nose at the smell of burning metal. For once, he hated it. "Sounds like a plan. You about done there, Feathers?"

"Yeah. Cap, can you…" Clint paused, glancing at Steve who was hovering so close to Tony with that kicked puppy expression on his face. He couldn't make Steve leave Tony's side in his current state. "Nevermind. I'll do it."

"Do what?" Steve asked.

"I'm going to finish cutting him out from behind, but he's going to fall once I'm done. Be prepared to catch him. Nat, figure out when S.H.I.E.L.D. is coming."

Steve took over Natasha's position as she slipped out, pulling out her phone from God knew where, and Clint disappeared again. At his hold, Tony snuggled in, resting his head on Steve's chiseled chest. The genius listened quietly to Steve's steady heartbeat, feeling more and more relaxed. In response, Steve merely ran his free hand through Tony's black hair, occasionally kissing his boyfriend on top of his head.

There was a fond smile on Bruce's face, but he kept quiet, giving them space.

"Get ready!" Clint shouted from behind them.

And then Tony was finally free, held up by Bruce and Steve. Sounds of a quinjet and another helicopter reached their ears.

Steve smiled, kissing Tony lightly again. "Let's go home."

"That's the best thing I've heard all day," Tony grinned. "Let's get me some pain meds, shall we? Some of that good stuff."

"Tony…" The disapproving tone was muffled by fondness.

Natasha strode in, just as Tony, Bruce, and Steve slowly made their way out. She nodded as they passed and bent down to deal with the Enchantress.

Medics swarmed around them and Tony was gently strapped down on a gurney. Steve and Bruce settled down next to Tony when Clint popped in, smirking at the sight of a very disgruntled Tony snapping at the paramedics.

"Some things never change, do they?" he chuckled, taking his place next to Steve.

Steve smiled fondly. "Thankfully." Then the brightness on his face faded as he remembered the origins of Tony's injuries.

"Let's just hope that it stays that way…"

* * *

I really struggled with this chapter. Sorry if I dropped the ball with this. I like writing about people getting hurt, but I'm not so good at the in-between parts that are all so necessary to explain what happened. Let me know if there's anything I can improve!

Also, I'm going to be going to Peru to volunteer at a medical clinic for about three weeks, so it'll take a little bit of time for me to update this, but I promise that I will finish it! I expect one more chapter or two unless you guys want me to add a twist and make it longer, but it's completely up to you guys. If you want me to continue, let me know what kind of things you'd like to see and maybe I'll work it in.

Again, thanks to all those who reviewed! I'm so excited to see how many reviews/favorites/follows I got! Every time I get one, my day just feels so great. :)

Like always, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!

~ Kanae Yuna


	5. Chapter 5

So, I'm actually still alive...I'm so sorry that this update took so long. I was out of the country and there was no internet connection. And then I got all depressed because I came back to see that I didn't get any reviews/favorites/follows. But I realized that it's because I'm having weird issues with this website and my email. I'm not getting any notifications about anything! But I still get emails from other things. Just not from this site. I'm so confused. Anyone have any idea what I should do to fix this? Has this happened to anyone? I emailed , but haven't got a response. So sad...obviously, I'm not loved.

Anyway, with that rant out of the way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I haven't quite decided how I'm going to end this story, so I'm open to suggestions.

As usual, I don't own any _Marvel_ products. And please review!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Green eyes glared hatefully at the solid white walls that surrounded her, even as a fiery-red head paced before her. She snarled, struggling against her bindings, but the chains held steady, biting into her pale skin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Natasha, as if speaking to a misbehaving child. "You wouldn't want to bleed out faster now, do you?"

The agent's voice was calm and low, but there was a threatening chill hidden within her words.

She swung a chair around so that its back faced the Enchantress and sat down upon it; her eyes locked with the goddess'. She stared at the Enchantress before her, feeling great satisfaction as she took in all the Asgardian's injuries.

The Enchantress' arms were bound tightly behind her back to the metal chair; her ankles were tied to the bottom of its legs. In that position, she couldn't even move a finger. A black collar had been attached to her neck as well.

She had received no treatment and blood from her side and the arrow holes in her hands was slowly pooling around her. Her hair was matted with the crimson liquid and her chest quivered each time she breathed, making the burns chafe against the chains. Weary lines covered her face, but there was defiance in her yet.

"You fools," growled the Enchantress, "Do you really believe that mere mortals can hold me here?"

"Is that a threat? I think it was." Natasha gleefully raised a small black button and pressed it.

Wordless screams tore from the Enchantress' throat as her body seized as one million volts of electricity coursed through her. Natasha held on a moment longer than she should have and by the time she released the goddess, the Asgardian was spent, slumped in her chair.

Natasha didn't hesitate and leapt up, ferociously jerking back the Enchantress' hair, eliciting a groan of pain.

"You hurt one of our own," Natasha hissed, "Things will get only go downhill from here if you don't start talking."

The Enchantress chuckled, "You are mistaken. It is not I who stabbed the Man of Iron. It was by your hands, Spider, and no one else's."

Something flashed in Natasha's eyes and faster than anyone could see, she used her palm to strike upwards. There was a distinct cracking sound, followed by a scream. Natasha didn't stop at the sight of blood streaming down the Enchantress' broken nose; she whipped out the same marine knife that was used against Tony and plunged it downwards, burying it into the Asgardian's left thigh. The Enchantress cried out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"Stark had a pole run through his leg in exactly the same place, curtesy of _your_ actions. Oh, he also had a broken rib, shoulder wound, and that all so lovely injury _I_ gave him. Start talking, Enchantress, or you'll slowly feel the exact same pain that my teammate went through, but worse." Natasha bent down and whispered into the Asgardian's ear. "Much, much worse...I guarantee it."

Through gritted teeth, the Enchantress snapped back, "You are a tool and nothing more. I do not fear those who work in the shadows."

Agent Romanoff stepped back with a feral grin. "It is the dark you should be afraid of, Enchantress, because in that world - in _my_ world - there are no rules."

"There are worse things than a human like you."

"That's where you're wrong. Let me show you what _I_ am capable of..."

* * *

An hour later, Natasha stepped out of interrogation and was instantly greeted by a junior agent.

"Director Fury would like you to make a full report on your findings," he said, sounding nervous (as he should be).

"If he wants to know, he can come find me and ask me himself. Where's Stark?" she returned.

"I sent Agent Collins for a reason, Agent Romanoff," boomed Fury, coming up to them, "Answer the question. What is the Enchantress' purpose of building a portal?"

"She hadn't originally planned to build one, but after her encounter with Hulk, she needed it to return to Asgard to replenish her magic and heal herself," Natasha responded, a little bit impatient, but Fury paid no attention to it.

"And what did she want with Stark?"

"She is under the impression that Stark can build the portal. She would have sought out Jane Foster, but she's currently in Asgard with Thor."

"We'll assign some agents to keep an eye on her when she returns. Did the Enchantress say anything else?"

"No, sir."

"Then you are dismissed. I do believe that Stark just got out of surgery."

Natasha nodded and began to walk briskly away before she paused and turned back around. "One more thing, you may need to get some medics in there. She'll die in the next half hour if she doesn't get treated soon."

Fury exploded, "Romanoff! I said I wanted her alive!"

"She is...for now," Natasha shot back and then completely disappeared from view as she made her way to the helicarrier's hospital.

Fury groaned, pressing his fingers to squeeze the upper bridge of his nose.

"Sir?" questioned Agent Collins.

Fury sighed. "You heard her. Get some medics in there. Keep her alive, do you understand me?!" he barked. Fury clenched his teeth, "I'm not done with her yet."

* * *

The first thing Natasha saw was Bruce hiding outside Tony's recovery room with Clint peeking around the corner of the door. Though she couldn't see Clint's expression, Bruce looked a little frustrated and conflicted.

"What's going on?" asked Natasha, glancing into the crack of the door. Steve was sitting by Tony's bedside, hunched over and his shoulders were shaking slightly.

She backed out immediately, understanding why Bruce didn't want to intrude, and looked at him. "Did something go wrong in his surgery?"

Bruce sighed, "He's fine. He'll be able to walk perfectly with physical therapy."

"Then what happened? Rogers has that kicked-puppy look again."

"Tony didn't come out of anesthetics very well."

"Who does?" snorted Clint.

"They had to restrain him, which made him struggle more," Bruce continued, ignoring Barton. "They made the decision to sedate Tony until his wounds have healed enough for him to move around."

"What?!" snapped Natasha. She knew as well as the others how hellish nightmares could become, especially people who suffered from PTSD like them. And Tony wasn't given the option to wake up...

"Cap wasn't too happy about it either," said Barton, straightening.

Bruce rolled his eyes, "And then Clint here threw a tantrum, getting both of us kicked out."

"Hey! I only did that 'cause Rogers was going to rip that doctor's head off!"

Bruce and Natasha understood Clint's reasoning easily. By making a mess out of things, Clint had prevented Steve from being booted out of the room. If there was anyone that could be of any help to Tony now, it was Steve. They all knew of Tony's occasional nightmares. Hell, they had their own, but they had been trained to deal with it. Tony only knew how to drown himself in alcohol or force his body to stay awake and bury himself into his work. Steve was always the one person who could calm the genius down and coax him back to bed.

Tony needed Steve just as much as Steve needed him.

"So how long are they keeping him under?" asked Natasha.

"I don't know. Tony's injuries are severe. His back wound ripped open again and infection was starting to settle in. His broken rib was also dangerously close puncturing his lungs, so they had to go in and fix that. Surprisingly, his leg was the easiest to repair. The pole had gone through and through without damaging any veins or arteries. None of his tendons were badly hurt either," explained Bruce.

"But it's still gonna hurt like a bitch," commented Clint.

"Which is why I think that the doctors made the right decision on this. He can't lie down in any position that won't aggravate his wounds. If he's kept sedated, he can't feel it, but I don't like the idea of it. It's as if the doctors are torturing him by doing this."

Natasha frowned, "How deep will he be under?"

Now, Bruce's brow furrowed. "I have no idea. Let's just hope it's deep enough or he's not going to react well to waking up."

"Tasha," said Clint suddenly, "What happened with the Enchantress?"

"I think she's alive."

Bruce's eyebrow rose, "You 'think'?"

Clint chuckled, "I didn't know you liked Stark that much."

"She was getting on my nerves," Natasha snapped back. She paused. "If she's still alive, Rogers has to be kept from her."

Both looked at her, questioning.

"She got under _my_ skin. Think of the damage she can do to Rogers," Natasha explained impatiently.

"So now we're on 'Stark Watch' _and_ we gotta look after Captain?" gaped Clint.

Beeping from the room distracted them and they glanced in to see Rogers running his fingers comfortingly through Tony's hair as he feebly thrashed in his sleep. There were low murmurs from Steve that covered Tony's whimpers. No one could tell if it was from pain or a nightmare.

The agents heard a quiet growl and turned quickly in time to see a green tinge cover Banner's eyes. And then the scientist was gone to find a quiet corner to calm down.

Natasha and Clint stood there dumbstruck before turning to each other.

"I don't like this..." Natasha admitted quietly.

"Feeling helpless or guilty? Or just feeling in general?"

Natasha smacked Clint's arm, probably leaving a bruise on the archer. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah...I do," Clint replied, a little breathlessly. He pressed his back against the wall and slid down, looking at the ground. "Are you starting to remember what happened?"

"No. Do you?"

"Not really, but I keep getting these snatches of images where instead of the Enchantress I'm shooting, it's Tony." Clint buried his face into his hands. "Maybe it's just because I know the truth now, but I can see the fear and betrayal in his eyes as clear as day. It's burned into my mind, Tasha. Even if he forgives me, _that_ will never disappear. How am I supposed to get over that?"

Natasha joined him, sitting next to the archer. Their shoulders touched, as if sharing their burdens. "I stabbed him in the back. Literally. With a marine knife. I can still remember the feeling of his blood spilling over my hands. It doesn't get worse than that."

Clint snorted. "Are we really comparing our guilt?"

Natasha looked slightly surprised. "I guess we are."

"What the hell happened to us? I remember _hating_ Tony's guts because he wouldn't shut the fuck up."

"And I almost killed him on a daily basis." She smiled as she remembered the older days. Her eyes met with Clint's. "We've been compromised. Is this for the better or worse?"

Clint exhaled. "I don't know…"

As assassins, emotions were dangerous things to have. Clint and Natasha had that lesson _ingrained _into the very fiber of their beings. Yet, he couldn't deny that the laughter he'd had with the Avengers aroused certain feelings that he had buried so long ago, filling the aching hole deep within his battered soul. He had come to _need_ the proximity of the others, to _want_ to have friendships and relationships in his life. So there was one thing he was sure of at this moment.

There was no hesitation in his voice. "But I know that I'd do anything to protect what we have right now."

Natasha gave him a genuine smile. "Same here."

* * *

_Heat was bearing down upon him. The sand and dust choked him, lodging in his throat and making it hard to breathe. Shouts in Arabic surrounded him and he could feel hands grabbing at his hair, forcing him to his knees. Ah…Afghanistan again._

_Tony knew how this went. The hood over his head would be removed and he would see the Ten Rings standing before him. They would shove his face into a water-filled tub over and over again until all his strength was spent and his lungs burning for air. He would see Yinsen's blood-stained face asking him "why?" over and over again until his heart broke into a million pieces._

_And then repeat. Again and again and again…_

_He knew it and he knew this was just a dream – a memory that should have been left behind, but he couldn't stop his heart from thumping wildly or the arc reactor burning within his chest. He couldn't fight the sheer terror that consumed him._

_The rough bag was ripped off his head and he blinked frantically up at the shadowy faces that were hidden in the darkness as he squinted at the bright lights shining down upon him._

_There was something different about this dream. The Ten Rings didn't immediately snarl at him, threatening him to build the Jericho. No, the silence of the four people in front of him was deafening._

"_Who are you?" Tony hissed, fighting against the chains that tied him to his chair._

_The figures stepped into the light and suddenly, this nightmare was far, far worse than Tony had ever had. _

_Steve's blue eyes glittered maliciously at him. On either side of him were Natasha and Clint. Bruce stood a distance behind them, watching with a morbid fascination. The three soldiers advanced, weapons in hand._

_Clint was first. In a flash, he buried an arrow deep into Tony's right shoulder. When he yelped, Clint punched him harshly across his face. A tooth was dislodged, followed by excruciating pain. _

_Natasha was next. She lovingly caressed Tony's face, locking their eyes together. If she noticed the pleading in Tony's black irises, she said nothing. Instead, she smirked and made a sharp movement. A scream escaped Tony's lips as he felt the marine knife tear through his skin and muscle, filling his world fire and darkness._

_Last was Steve. Kind, loving Steve – the Steve who always whispered sweet nothings into his ear before he fell asleep; the Steve who would hold him so tightly after a nightmare. Who was going to comfort him now? Who would love him now?_

"_No one…" whispered Steve. _

_Tony hadn't realized that he had asked the last question out loud. Tears welled in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks as fast as his blood from the knife that was still buried into his back._

"_Steve…please…" he whimpered, "Please don't…"_

_The decorated shield slammed into him, knocking him onto the ground. He bit down a cry as he collided with the hard, unforgiving cement. His vision wavered and it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe. A hard kick rammed against his chest and he heard a crack as his ribs gave in. He moaned, his body subconsciously curling in on himself._

_This was just a dream. Just a dream…but why couldn't he wake up?_

"_You're a monster," growled Captain America._

"_An annoyance," added Natasha._

"_Useless piece of shit," Clint hissed._

_Just when Tony didn't think he could break anymore, those words tore through him and shredded every last bit of whatever hope, love, and humanity he had left within him. _

Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?

_Absolutely nothing._

What are you?

_Broken…_

* * *

The slight variation of the beeping on the heart monitors had immediately drawn Steve's attention and the two spies sitting outside the room. He frowned, confused. But then, the machines went wild. The EKG spiked and Tony's heart rate accelerated exponentially. The billionaire's back arched as his body went taut and spasmed.

"Help! I need help in here!" Steve yelled in sheer panic.

Natasha and Clint rushed in at his words, alarm written clearly on their faces (which said something). Seconds behind them were the S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors and nurses.

There was a bustle of movements and the Avengers found themselves shoved to a corner of the massive room.

"What caused this?!" exclaimed a nurse.

"Heart rate is 210 over 100. Should we inject hyrdralazine?"

"No, it's too risky with the medication he's currently on."

"Should we bring a crash cart?"

This was getting ridiculous. All the Avengers knew exactly what was causing this.

"For God's sake, just take him off the sedatives!" Steve shouted over them.

A doctor turned, "Please, Mr. Rogers, let us do our job or we will be forced to remove you from the premises."

Clint and Natasha growled.

"I'd like to see you try," hissed Natasha. "Clint?"

In a couple of fast steps, Clint had made it over and ripped out one of the IV bags. He rounded onto the doctors. "For medical professionals, you're all fucking idiots! He was just having a nightmare that he couldn't fucking wake up from because _you_ wouldn't let him!"

"Agent Barton, we only placed him under because he needs time to recover."

"How many of you have seen a battlefield? Been tortured?" Clint retorted. "Talk to me _after_ you understand how deteriorating those memories can be to someone. Injuries or not, I will not allow you to torture my friend. Now get the fuck out!"

"Agent Barton…"

Steve stepped forward, his large frame towering over the medics. "I believe he said to _leave_."

"And someone find Banner," Natasha added from where she stood, holding the door open.

Disgruntled, everyone piled out, completely missing the fact that Tony's heart rate had slowed somewhat now that his consciousness was returning. Most anesthetics usually didn't affect the stubborn genius and now that it wasn't a constant stream into his bloodstream, he was already fighting his way out of the darkness.

A whimper escaped Tony's lips and instantly, Steve, Clint, and Natasha was by his side.

In hindsight, they should have realized that Tony's nightmare had involved them. They should have known better than to crowd around a waking Tony when he was afraid of them.

Tony's eyes had snapped opened. His black irises were dilated and filled with panic. Disorientation was written all over his face just as his body started register the pain. He moaned, trying to curl in on himself.

"N-no…p-please s-stop…" he cried.

Steve reached out, trying to hold him down so that he couldn't injure himself more. "Tony, wake up. It's just a dream!"

At his touch, Tony screamed, as if Steve's hands had burned him. Steve jumped back, desperation written all over him, but he knew Tony. This was a routine – something he had dealt with for the past year.

Determination filled his eyes and he ignored Clint's and Natasha's protestations as his hands cupped Tony's cheeks. Tony struggled weakly, but Steve held on tightly.

"Tony!" he shouted, "Wake up!"

Tony's black eyes blearily made contact with his blue ones. Confused and scared met strong and loving.

"Tony…" Steve said, his voice soft and gentle. "Tony, it's alright. You're safe now. It's alright…"

The repeated murmurs started to coax Tony back into reality and tears filled his eyes.

"Steve?" Tony asked hoarsely.

Steve smiled warmly. "Hey, babe. Welcome back."

Tony grasped at Steve's hands, as if it could ground him. "Steve?" he said again, hopeful this time.

"Yes. I'm here. You're safe."

"D-don't l-leave me," whimpered Tony, tears spilling over.

"I'll never leave you. I love you."

"I'm s-sorry…"

Surprise caught Steve unawares. This was not part of his routine – this was not how Tony usually reacted after a nightmare. He found he could only say one thing. "Why?"

"S-sorry…" Tony whispered as his tears dropped onto Steve's hands. His eyes flickered and then shut as he succumbed to his pain and medication.

Natasha and Clint looked up at Steve.

Clint frowned. "What was that?"

"I don't know."

"You know, Rogers. You just don't want to admit it," snapped Natasha.

Anger flittered on the super soldier's face. "What are you talking about, Natasha?"

"Stark isn't tormented by Afghanistan anymore. No, what's torturing him is us! Don't try to think of this otherwise!" she nearly screamed.

Steve held up a hand, thinking to comfort her, but Clint reacted faster. The archer grabbed Natasha around the waist and held her closely to his body, feeling her shake against him.

"We should go…" Clint said quietly.

No questions were asked; no protests were made. The three of them quietly made their way out and came face-to-face with Bruce's alarmed face. His eyes were wide and his hair was a mess. His shirt had become untucked sometime during his sprint to the hospital wing and he didn't have time to straighten himself up.

"What happened? Some doctors came looking for me," he panted out.

Steve could only shake his head and croak out. "Take care of him, please."

"Steve…"

But Steve wouldn't hear of it and left, his shoulders slumped and his entire figure looking so small, like before he had the serum.

Bruce turned to ask Clint and Natasha, but the two had disappeared as well. Sighing, he wandered into Tony's room and started to check his vitals and wounds. When he was satisfied that Tony would be alright for now, he settled down into Steve's chair and waited quietly. After all, only Tony could fix what the rift between him and his teammates.

There was nothing Bruce could do but feel utterly helpless as he watched his family tear itself apart…

* * *

The sound of constant beeping was the first thing that greeted Tony when he woke again. The edges of his nightmare had faded away, leaving just an aching of his heart. His eyes fluttered open. The familiar dark room welcomed him to reality as did the slumbering figure of…Bruce? Tony felt his stomach churn. He was honestly expecting Steve to be holding his hands, soothing him.

"JARVIS?" he rasped out, hoping that his AI had managed to wiggle itself into the helicarrier again, but there was no response. It made sense. Tony was pretty much too out of it to even slip the idea into his AI's head (relatively speaking).

He sighed and shifted, eliciting a gasp as a fire spread through his entire body. Glancing down, he saw his leg wrapped tightly and elevated with a large pillow. Oh, yeah. He got stabbed with a fucking pole! At least his back didn't hurt quite as badly as it did before. It still hurt, obviously, but at this point, it was tolerable.

"Tony?" came Bruce's voice.

Tony looked to his left and saw Bruce leaning forward. "You rang?"

Bruce ignored Tony's snarky remark. "How are you feeling?"

The genius just rolled his eyes at Bruce and stared at the ceiling. "Where're the others?" he asked, trying to sound aloof, but failing miserably.

"They're…with Fury," Bruce lied.

"They're sulking, aren't they?"

The scientist didn't answer.

"Come on, big guy. I'm injured, not stupid."

But still, there was no response.

Tony sighed in frustration. "Fine, I'll go find him then."

He made to move and immediately, Bruce jumped up.

"Where's Steve?" Tony asked again, knowing full well that Bruce had played right into his hand.

Banner had no choice and sighed. "I think Fury ordered the three of them back to Malibu. He wasn't quite happy that they had threatened all the nurses and doctors here."

"Take me home then."

"Tony, you need treatment."

"And you're my doctor."

"Tony," chastised Bruce.

Suddenly, all the sarcasm dropped, leaving only an expression that Bruce had seen a few times. There was no sparkle behind his black eyes; no wrinkle lines that appeared when he smiled. There was a hardness to the billionaire's face, making him seem ten years older than he actually was.

Tony Stark was serious.

"Bruce, you know as well as I do that they can't be left alone. And it's not just them. _I _need to get over this too, but nothing's going to get solved if we just leave it to fester."

"Let me ask you one question then. You know them. You know that they're not going to forgive themselves so easily. What are you going to do if they don't?"

Tony looked down on his hands. He hadn't thought about it. What if Steve never stopped looking at him like he was afraid that he'd break? What if Clint decided that Tony was too fragile to pull pranks on? And what if Natasha would treat him nicely? He suppressed a shudder at that last thought.

"Tony," Bruce said gently when Tony didn't reply. "I need to know that you can handle this. If the world seems to crumble around you, can you handle it?"

A life without Steve, without the Avengers, seemed so meaningless. Like there was nothing left for him except an emptiness that he could never fill with all the scotch and women in the world.

But even still, at least he would have tried. More than anything, Tony didn't think he could live with the regret of not doing all he could. Even if it hurt Steve, Clint, and Natasha to pass the days remembering everything they did each time they saw him, he had to be selfish just one more time.

"Doesn't matter if I can handle it or not. I _have_ to do this," he said back quietly. His black eyes met Bruce's. There was conviction and determination burning in his irises. "I love him, Bruce. I'm not going to lose him just because some bitch played puppets with us."

A pause. "That's enough for me. Come on, I'll help you up."

"Wait, what? Really? It was _that_ simple. Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"You want me to help you or not?"

Tony grumbled and glared at the wheelchair that Bruce brought over.

Banner eyed him warily. "Don't you even think about dismantling this one, Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

The seashore breeze was light and cool on Steve's face; the sun was bearing down on him and yet, he felt so cold. Steve closed his eyes and could only see ice and snow around him. It didn't even feel right for him to be standing on the balcony on the roof of Tony's Malibu mansion. Tony had been _so_ scared. And this was Tony Stark he was talking about. The Ironman didn't get frightened easily.

And it was his fault.

Steve ran his hand through his short hair, mussing it up. What was he supposed to do now? Should he leave Tony? The billionaire could recover properly without the risk of tearing out his stitches every time Steve wanted to get close to him. But Steve could barely handle the thought of leaving. Tony, with all his snarky retorts, his incapability of taking care of himself, and his metallic heart that cared far too much about others, had become the sun in Steve's world. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't feel the tingle through his skin every time Tony brushed by him. The sound of Tony's laughter, the scratchiness of his goatee, and the secretive loving gazes that Tony didn't know he knew about. Steve just couldn't live without it all.

But could he live with those secretive gazes turn into ones of fear? What if Tony's laughter died completely? The man had enough nightmares – ones that he should not have had. Steve had always been the one to coax Tony back to reality. But what would happen when those dreams are caused by the one sleeping beside the genius?

Steve rubbed his face in frustration. What the hell was he supposed to do?!

Before he could bury himself deeper into his misery, his sharp ears caught the sound of a helicopter in the distance. He frowned. He wasn't aware of any arrivals to the Malibu mansion, especially after an irate Fury booted them off the helicarrier.

"Clint, Natasha," he said normally, knowing full well that the two had been hovering around to make sure that he didn't do anything drastic.

The two materialized beside him and stared off into the distance.

"Fury?" Clint asked Natasha just as the chopper came into view.

"Doubt it."

"Threat?"

"Probably not."

Steve didn't say anything and headed back into the house. "JARVIS, if that bird is a threat, shut down everything."

"Understood, sir," responded the polite, British voice.

The super soldier turned into another hallway and briskly walked to the door, shoving it open. The helicopter had already begun to land, making Steve, Clint, and Natasha raise their hands to their face to shield their eyes.

The door of the landed chopper opened, revealing one Tony Stark, but there was no humor in his eyes. No snarky remarks or smirks. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe with Bruce supporting him on his other side. His breathing was slightly harsh; his black eyes were determined and hard. They could still see the white bandages hidden beneath his AC/DC t-shirt and how his injured leg was held cautiously off the floor.

The Avengers stared at him, a little confused, before worry transformed into anger.

"What the hell are you doing, Tony?" demanded Clint.

"I live here," huffed Tony.

Steve rounded on Tony. "Tony, what are you thinking? You're injured! Why aren't you in the hospital?!"

"Bruce can stitch me back up," Tony replied nonchalantly. "We need to talk."

Bruce kept quiet, knowing full well of Tony's intentions.

The other three hesitated, not sure if it was a good idea to be so close with the man that they had hurt.

Tony crossed his arms, wiping off the brief flash of pain on his face. "You guys don't really have a choice in the matter. What the bitch said was all true. The least you can do is hear me out. You owe me that much."

The words were harsh, but Tony knew that they wouldn't respond to anything else. They were already more than halfway down a guilt trip; Tony knew that he would be able to use that this advantage to get across to them.

As he had expected, the soldiers' postures fell in defeat and carefully watched Bruce help Tony out. The scientists' interactions didn't seem any different. Bruce was scolding Tony who was brushing him aside with sarcastic replies, even as he started to lean heavier and heavier on Bruce's shoulder.

None of them missed the side glances Tony shot them, but they misinterpreted his anxiety as one of fear. At this moment, none of them thought that they could sink any lower.

It took a few minutes, but when Tony's good leg was planted on the ground, he childishly reached out to Steve. Though Steve was hesitant, he still obliged Tony because Tony only asked for help if he truly needed it. He gathered his boyfriend in his arms and proceeded to carry the genius into his home. Steve set him gently down on the ground, hoping that Tony would give up on the idea of chatting.

Tony pointed his index finger towards the living room.

Steve shook his head. "Tony, you should get some rest. We can wait until you're better to talk," Steve said gently.

"Hell no. If I let you guys stew, who knows what kind of shit you're going to come up with." Tony drew himself up, "We're doing this now. Everyone in the living room."

The genius didn't really leave much room for argument and slowly limped his way down the hallway to stand before the large plasma TV. Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Bruce followed in.

Tony saw how dejected the three soldiers looked before him; their shoulders slumped, burdened by guilt, and they stared at the ground as if their life depended on it. Bruce just stood slightly to Tony's side to make sure that he didn't topple over.

"You guys are all idiots," Tony started. "If we have to blame someone for what happened, it would be that bitch."

"Doesn't change the fact that it was by _our _hands that you got hurt, Tony," Steve said softly.

Tony rolled his eyes, "I'd actually take that into account if you were aware of who you were railing on, but seeing how you had _absolutely _no idea who you were fighting, that point is moot."

Tony shrugged, "And it's not like I let you guys smack me around for fun. I got some shots in too, so if you guys insist on feeling guilty, I'll join in."

"Tony," Clint tried.

"No, you listen to me!" Tony pointed at Clint, poking the archer in his chest. "I was the one who knocked you out with my repulsor. I'm the one responsible for your concussion and you puking your guts out, so as far as I'm concerned, we're even."

He turned to Natasha, "And you're a scary, scary bitch. I'd slap you, but I feel like I'd get prickled by all the thorns. Yes, you stabbed me. Did it hurt? Fuck yes. But you saved me from the helicopter too. If that still isn't enough, you know how you can repay me? Lighten up and try not to kill me next time I drive you nuts. As in right now." Tony spread his arms. "Free shot. I won't even fight back. No? Then you've spared my life _again_, so your debt to me is cleared."

Then, he rounded on Steve. Without a warning, he threw a hard left hook, striking his boyfriend on his jaw. Steve stumbled back one step, bewildered. Tony was wringing his now sore hand with a satisfied smirk. "Damn, you're hard as a rock! But now we're even too."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Tony easily cut him off.

"Not enough? Fine. I'm ignoring you for a day and you get to sleep on the couch. That should be punishment enough. If not, I'm more than willing to withhold sex if that's what it takes, though I'd really rather not."

Steve turned a bright red.

And then Bruce was left. "Brucie! You know how much I love you and how you go all green, but I've got a bone to pick with you. I swore I was going to throw a bitch fit if you ended up getting lost, so here it is. Next time you decide to bound off, figure out where the hell you're going first! Jesus! And to think you're a genius too. Such a disgrace to our people, Bruce," joked Tony.

Bruce looked confused, as if he didn't understand why he was being scolded with the rest of the team. He wasn't exactly feeling guilty.

Tony smirked, "I was on a roll," he explained, and Bruce just smiled and shook his head at his friend.

Tony looked at the rest of his family. "Any questions? We all settled? I think we are. Man, I'm famished. Who wants shawarma?"

At that, Clint rolled his eyes. "You do realize that you're leaving blood stains in the carpet, right? And you want shawarma?"

Tony glanced down, frowning at the crimson liquid. "Damn. That's going to be a bitch to get out."

"Did your stitches come out again?" asked Steve, his blue eyes worried. His hands ghosted over Tony's body, he was too scared that he'd hurt something further.

Tony numbly shook his head. With the need to say his piece gone, whatever was holding him up had faded away completely. Needless to say, checking out of the hospital so early and taking a long helicopter ride while still bleeding all over the place was not the brightest idea he'd had.

"Tony?" questioned Steve, watching his lover begin to sway.

"I think…I think I need to sit down…" Tony breathed.

Instantly, there were four pairs of arms helping him down onto the floor. He could hear Bruce saying something and then suddenly, the spies were no longer in sight, only to return in a minute with a kit in their hands.

JARVIS' voice echoed around them. "My scans indicate that Master Stark is merely exhausted. His stitches are still intact and blood loss is at a minimal level."

Bruce sighed in relief, "Good."

The scientist then glared at Tony, seeing how his slightly unfocused black eyes were watching him. "You know, you really have no right to lecture me. Do you remember what I said before we fought with the Enchantress again? I specifically told you not to do anything stupid, and what did you do? Run out onto a battlefield when your stitches were already torn!" scolded Bruce, "And you just _had_ to insist to refuse treatment to come back here. For a genius, you're awfully stupid."

Tony smirked, his head lolling onto Steve's shoulder. "You're…the first to call me…stupid…"

"And I won't be the last," Bruce retorted, "Natasha, make sure you keep pressure on his wound. He can't afford to lose any more blood. Unless someone is willing to give up theirs for him."

"Can I have Steve's?" Tony asked. "I wanna be Superhuman too."

Steve chuckled lightly, "I don't think it works that way, Tony."

Tony closed his eyes, "Too bad…" he mumbled, "Woulda been sweet…"

"Stay awake, Tony," Clint said.

"Why?" Tony whined, making the archer chuckle at him.

"You have to hear our apologies."

Tony waved his hand weakly. "Don't care for them."

"We're sorry all the same."

"And you're all forgiven. We good?"

Clint was the first to crack a smile. "Yeah, we good."

Tony glanced at Natasha who just nodded. He felt a hand stroke his hair and he looked up at Steve's blue eyes.

"Love you, idiot…" whispered Steve as he pressed his lips against Tony's forehead.

Tony smiled and leaned his head into the touch. "Love you, too, Spangles."

There was a sharp prick against the inside of his elbow and Tony knew that he didn't have long before the medication took him over.

His vision was already blurring. Wow, those were some good drugs. He'd have to remember to ask Bruce what he gave him.

Blearily, he looked at his family, specifically at Natasha. He worked his next words through his thick tongue. "Y-you...got my back, right?"

Natasha smiled at him. "Yeah. I got your back."

"We all do," Clint added.

The smile on Tony's face as he passed out was like a light in their dark thoughts.

For the first time since the Enchantress appeared, the Avengers felt as though everything was going to be alright. Even if it took time, they were family, and nothing would ever change that.

They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

I hope you liked it! Again, I have a lot of reserves about this chapter. I'm not great with emotions...but hopefully it's okay. Let me know if there's anything I can do improve it.

I'm thinking of having one more chapter to conclude the entire issue with the Enchantress and then an epilogue, but again, if you guys have any suggestions, I'm open to them. I do like whump. I'm not violent, I swear! Lol!

Anyway, I want to say thanks to all you guys who stayed with me throughout this entire story. I really appreciate all your support and again, I'm sorry for the long wait. Hopefully the next chapters won't take that long, but I'm about to take the GRE, so I have to study really hard. Just giving you all a heads up. I promise I'll finish this story though!

So yeah, please review!

~ Kanae Yuna


	6. Chapter 6

Hey everyone! Sorry this took so long. This is mostly fluff and I have to say, I've always struggled with it. Also, I had a ridiculously busy couple of months at school and whatnot.

Just a warning, I wanted to try a new kind of writing, using mostly flashbacks, so this chapter is kind of shorter than all my other ones. Let me know if it works though. :)

Anyway, disclaimer: I don't own any _Marvel _products. And please read and review as always! There should be one more chapter - an epilogue, but read the end notes because I'd like to throw out some ideas and get some suggestions.

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Steve turned onto his left side for what seemed to be the hundredth time, huffing in annoyance. He wasn't sure how late it was, but sleep had eluded him for hours. This time, it wasn't because he would see Tony covered in blood whenever he closed his eyes. No, his insomnia was caused by him desperately missing the bundle of warmth that was usually curled up against his side, cuddling and hugging him.

He shifted again, sighing as he tried to find a comfortable position on the large couch in Tony's living room. After Tony's outburst earlier and between the various treatments that Bruce had him on, somehow, Steve found himself shooed away. More surprised than hurt, Steve hadn't realized that Tony was actually going to make do on his threat, but he guessed he deserved it. And it wasn't a problem until now. Since when did it become virtually impossible to fall asleep without hearing Tony's breathing in his ear or seeing the dim lighting of his reactor?

Giving up on sleeping, Steve flung himself onto his back and frowned at the white ceiling, as if it was at fault. His restless mind wandered back to what happened a few hours ago after Tony had confronted the rest of the members of the Avengers.

It was obvious that Tony's strength had waned long before he even returned to his mansion, but had hidden fairly well it until his body gave out on him. When he collapsed, the Avengers had gone into a frenzy. Clint had frantically run around to grab every single first aid kit in the house (totaling to about fifty-two sets); Natasha had maintained some sense of dignity and simply proceeded to stare at Tony wheezing and gasping with a sort of hidden emotion glowing in her eyes. Steve had reached out to comfort his boyfriend, but his frantic panic had made him misjudge his super strength. He had barely laid a hand on Tony's shoulder when the billionaire had torn himself away, curling sideways into Bruce's chest. The sight of torment of the genius' face was enough to make Steve's heart twist to the point he felt nauseous.

* * *

_"Jesus!" Tony swore quietly, almost hissing. "Fuck!"_

_ "I'm so sorry, Tony! I'm so sorry!" Steve immediately started to ramble._

_ "Not you…" panted Tony, his pale face growing incredibly whiter._

_ Bruce frowned from his position behind the billionaire. "Is it your back?" he asked before snapping at Clint for bringing over a fifth medical kit, "Stop it, Clint! One is enough!"_

_ Clint's eyes widened for a brief second before he skittered away into the vents again. Bruce just shook his head and glanced back down at Tony whose eyes had fallen shut. His face had taken on an unhealthy pallor and cold sweat was breaking out on his brow. He was struggling to breathe, wincing each time he took inhaled and exhaled. No doubt the pain killers had lost their effectiveness and he was now feeling the full brunt of his broken ribs. The helicopter fiasco had certainly done a number on Tony's already weakened body, but there wasn't much he could do here in the living room._

_ "Natasha, do you think you can get Tony's room ready?" Bruce said, looking up at the master spy. He froze for a second, finally realizing that, ironically, he was the only one in the room that was keeping a level head about this. _

_Emotion was cracking through Natasha's mask, almost like she had no control over how much bleed out. Her eyes were watery; her lips were pursed and lines on her face indicated how worried she really was._

_ If Tony had noticed, no doubt he would have made a quip about how she _actually _feels, but that wasn't important right now._

_ "Natasha…" Bruce said again, quietly._

_ Instantly, she snapped to attention; the emotion disappearing to a mere strange gleam in her eyes. She nodded and vanished as quickly as Clint. Bruce had every faith in her that by the time they reached Tony's room, there would be a mountain of blankets, pillows, buckets of water, and likes to ensure that Tony was more than a hundred percent comfortable._

_ Bruce turned to the super human. "Steve, I need you to carry Tony."_

_ The soldier hesitated. "What if I hurt him again?"_

_ "Wasn't you…" Tony gasped, "'sides, trust you, Steve..." He trailed off, but the point was made. Tony waved a weak hand._

_ More reluctant than anything, Steve gently and cautiously slid his arms under Tony's knees and behind his shoulders. He could feel Tony tensing within his grasp as he lifted him up. Tony breathed slowly and closed his eyes to the spinning world._

_ "You okay?" Steve asked, worried._

_ Tony nodded, not trusting his voice. He lolled his head against Steve's broad chest, smiling softly despite the pain. Steve's soft footsteps and heartbeats acted sang like a lullaby and Tony was asleep long before he even reached his room._

_ As expected, Tony's bed had already been made and Natasha standing by the door, waiting on hand if anyone needed anything. Bruce bustled around, setting up the various IV's that Tony needed and sterilizing a few things here and there. Only after Bruce gave the all-clear sign did Steve set his boyfriend down carefully. _

_ Steve tucked the billionaire in and lovingly brushed aside a strand of hair before kissing him on the forehead._

_ "Take care of him, Bruce," he said quietly._

_ Bruce gave him a concerned glance, confusion clearly written in his eyes, but he just nodded in response._

_ Silently, Steve padded out with Natasha following him._

_ "Captain, what are you planning on doing?" she asked as soon as the door shut behind her._

_ "You said that the Enchantress is still alive. Is she still with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"_

_ Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know?"_

_ Steve didn't answer outright. "Can you fly me there?"_

_ "I'll take you," Clint said, popping down from a vent. "Tasha isn't allowed near her anymore. And I have my own score I gotta settle with that bitch."_

_ "Thanks. Take care of Tony for me, Natasha. We'll be back soon."_

_ "Remember, Fury wants her alive, but if you need help getting rid of the body, just let me know."_

_ She had meant it as a joke, but when Steve didn't react in horror as usual, she felt a jolt of alarm rush through her. Clint made eye contact with her and almost telepathically, he let her know that he would keep an eye on their hurting friend, but that was of little comfort to her._

_ After the incident with Loki, Clint didn't take to being controlled very well. In fact, Natasha knew that if she didn't get her hands on the witch first, Hawkeye would have torn the Asgardian apart from limb to limb. Though she had the reputation of being the most ruthless spy in all of S.H.I.E.L.D., most didn't know that her mercilessness was nothing compared to the archer when he was out for blood. There wasn't much that Clint or Natasha held dear, so they would felt tooth and nail to protect whatever it was that managed to worm itself into their guarded hearts. And Tony was Clint's best friend._

_ You don't mess with a pissed off Hawkeye._

_But Clint and Steve were gone before Natasha could protest._

_Steve could see the confusion and worry on her face before he rushed off. He knew that she was seconds from pulling some aerobatic move and sitting on him. Though he could understand her sentiments, he was not about to let her stop him._

_The Enchantress was going to learn that a pissed off American was not something to be trifled with…_

* * *

Steve huffed with satisfaction when he thought back to Natasha's expressions. It wasn't very often that the spy let something slip through. He felt almost…proud that he had managed to elicit such responses from the red-head. Tony would have been proud.

A gloom filled him as he thought of his boyfriend, but that was shadowed slightly by his short trip with the archer.

The quinjet had been silent when they left Tony's mansion. How Clint and Natasha had managed to hide such a vehicle within Tony's already filled garage was beyond him, but he knew better to question it. He had been quite glad for it, and even more so when Clint had flown the plane swiftly. He could tell that Clint didn't really know what to say. Hell, if he was in Clint's position, he wouldn't have known either. He knew that he had probably seemed angry with his jaw clenched and his eyes steely hard, but truth to be told, he was doing a damn fine job hiding his true wrath.

The bitch (pardon his language) had messed with his boyfriend, and she had to pay.

* * *

_They had been flying for about half an hour now. Steve kept his eyes glued on the sky zooming past him, noticing the furtive glances that Clint kept shooting towards him._

_He sighed, "Did you want to ask me something, Clint?"_

"_Not particularly."_

_A tight smile appeared on Steve's face as he turned to look at the pilot. "Liar."_

_Clint looked hesitant. "Are you…?" He didn't finish his question because Steve's blue eyes rolled with exasperation._

"_If you ask me if I'm alright, I'm going to punch you."_

_Barton chuckled, "I see that Stark is rubbing off on you. What is America going to think when they realize that their golden boy has been corrupted?"_

"_And that's a bad thing?" Steve quipped back._

"_Not at all. I like this side of you, Cap. Much more fun."_

"_I try."_

"_Even got the sarcasm down," laughed Clint, "Careful, you'll start to sound like JARVIS."_

"_I don't think JARVIS will appreciate that comment."_

_Clint paused, getting to the crux of his questioning. "You know that the bitch is going to be under heavy security. How are you going to get past them? Do you have a plan?"_

"_Director Fury will let me see her."_

"_Not if you look like you'll be a risk to her life. Fury has made it very clear that she is to be kept alive for the information that she has."_

"_He'll let me see her," the soldier insisted._

"_How do you know? S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't known to be very cooperative when it comes to things like this."_

_Steve looked away, staring back out the window. "He'll let me. He has to. I_ have_ to talk with her." He exhaled and his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "Otherwise, I'll never forgive myself."_

_A moment of silence. "I get it. I do, but don't throw a fit if you're not allowed."_

"_That's not really my concern."_

_There was a light quality to his tone and Clint smiled when he read between the lines._

"_That's right, Cap, 'cause I got your back. Do me a favor for me though and leave a piece of her for me."_

"_I can't guarantee that…"_

* * *

Steve had always considered himself as a good soldier. Always proper, always obedient. But no one realized it was because he had had no reasons to defy orders…until now. Fury had not been pleased when they arrived and had flatly refused letting Steve see the Enchantress. Clint was about snarl at Fury when Steve stepped forward, letting his broad frame naturally loom over the Director.

"You _are_ letting me see her, Director. Or I swear to God, you will understand exactly how much the serum has enhanced me," Steve said quietly, his voice icy.

"Is that a threat, Captain?" Fury growled.

There was no hesitation. "Yes."

Fury and Steve had had a stare down and after a few tense minutes, Fury broke away first, huffing.

"Fine. But you get ten minutes. The second you lay a finger on her, you'll be out on your ass faster than you can say my name. Do you understand me?"

"Understood."

"She stays alive, do you hear me? And Barton, you stay out of this!"

Clint snarled, "I'm staying with him, Director."

Fury crossed his arms. "No."

"I'd like to see you stop me."

"I won't have to."

"Why not?"

"Because pretty boy already left."

And that was the last thing Steve had heard before he turned the corner to come to a stop in front of the door to the quarantined room. He had taken a deep breath, reached out, and grasped the handle.

He had pulled on the door hard, stepping into the room where the Enchantress lay bound and sedated on the bed.

It was now or never.

* * *

_The Asgardian's dazed green eyes flashed onto Steve the moment he walked in. There was such hatred and coldness within her irises that would have made Steve freeze on any other day. But Steve was sure he had the same expression on his own face because she seemed to wilt before him. Whether it was because of her injuries or his domineering presence, Steve didn't care._

_ Gritting his teeth, he approached her, stopping a few inches away from her bedside. _

_ "The American Captain…" she breathed, a maniacal smile appearing on her face. "It…."_

_ "Shut up. You don't get to speak unless I let you. I won't hesitate to activate that collar on your neck or break a finger or two to get you to understand that."_

_ Her mouth snapped shut._

_ "According to the Widow, you attacked us because you didn't like seeing Thor fraternize with mortals. I can understand that, given how damn insane you are. What I don't understand is that you clearly targeted Tony above everyone else. Why?"_

_ She remained muted, defying him._

_ Steve leaned down, pressing his large hands on her shoulder where an arrow wound lay hidden beneath her clothes. She jerked, her face going pale and a gasp escaping her lips._

_ A weak chuckle bubbled out of her. "I am honestly surprised, Captain. Never did I expect such belligerent behavior from you. Have I made you desperate?"_

_ "No, you haven't. You have made me _very _angry, and you _will _regret that. Now answer my question," he growled, pressing down a little harder._

_ The Enchantress let out a quiet yelp before gathering her breath. "The Man of Iron flies around as if the sky is his. He taunts the Gods with his very existence when he is merely a man – an inconsequential human. A lesson had to be taught."_

_ "You're right. Tony is more human than anyone else on this team, but that's what makes him the greatest out of all of us. So what gives you the fucking right to teach him a 'lesson'? No, it's not Tony that has to learn. It's you and everyone else that has the stupid idea that it's alright to mess with us."_

_ Ice and venom dripped from Captain America's voice. "There are repercussions to hurting one of our own. Severe repercussions. What you have experienced so far is nothing compared to what lies in your future. You will suffer excruciatingly and intimately, in every way you fear, for hurting someone that I love, for using us as your pawns. You will come to regret ever hearing the name of Tony Stark and the Avengers."_

_ "Will you be the one to kill me?" taunted the Enchantress, "Will my blood be on your hands? How will America react to that? How will your lover fare? I think my death will be worth it, Captain America the Murderer."_

_ At this, Steve gave her a feral smile, digging his fingers into her wound. A scream echoed around him and he only felt satisfied. "I don't need to dirty myself with you. You're not worth the dust on my feet. But don't fret, Enchantress. I may not want you, but there are so many others that would love to take my place here. One of them is standing outside right now. The other will haunt you in your dreams, tearing your sanity apart with his green arms. I don't think the Widow is quite done with you either."_

_ "If you survive, and that is '_if_', do me a favor and let the rest of the universe know about the Avengers. We are fiercely protective of our own and there _will _be repercussions. I dare you or anyone else to try, but I cannot guarantee that you will come out the other end intact."_

_He let her go abruptly. "Good-bye, Enchantress. I hope you go to hell."_

_ Captain America turned and stepped away, but not before he saw her trembling slightly under her covers. With a grim look on his face, he jerked the door open to see Clint leaning casually on the wall next to it. His arms were crossed against his chest and he glanced up at Steve when the Captain came to a stop before him._

_ Clint only raised an eyebrow at Steve. "Bitch still alive?"_

_ He nodded, "She's all yours."_

_ A mask of ruthlessness and malice fell into place. "Good. Give me ten minutes and we'll head back home."_

_ The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent slipped into the room and seconds later, Steve heard more screams and pleas filter into the hallway. He felt his stomach churn. As much as he needed to be so cruel to the Enchantress, it didn't mean that he enjoyed it. He just wasn't cut out for threats, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't dole them out when it was needed. _

_ Then Clint's words hit him. He had called Tony's mansion "home"._

_ His heart swelled and a warm smile made its way onto his face._

_ For the first time since the Enchantress appeared, Steve truly felt and _believed _that everything was going to be alright._

_ And suddenly, Steve couldn't wait to go home to his Tony – to his family._

* * *

Speaking of which, there was still quite a lack of Tony's presence currently. Tony hadn't woken up for another hour until after Steve and Clint returned. Steve had tried to sit by Tony's side or even curl up with him on the bed, but after unconsciously treating Tony like glass, the genius had kicked him out, saying that the couch was now his. Steve and the rest of the team hadn't thought that Tony would really have carried out his threats made earlier in the day, but no one wanted to argue with him.

Steve sighed again. "JARVIS, what time is it?" he asked.

"It is 1:18 in the morning, sir."

Steve groaned.

"Perhaps you should seek out Master Stark's company, Captain Rogers," JARVIS suggested quietly, his voice concentrated in Steve's general vicinity. "It seems that Master Stark is also having difficulties falling asleep."

Steve sat up in alarm. "Is it his injuries? Is he alright?"

"Medically, he is sound. He is having difficulties sleeping for the same reason you are, Captain. Sir will not admit it, but he is in need of your presence as well."

A slight smile appeared on Steve's face as he murmured his thanks to the AI. Silently, he padded over to Tony's room and slipped into the darkness, closing the door behind him.

Tony raised his head from his pillow at the sound and cracked a warm smile at Steve.

"Hey," Steve said softly.

"Hey, yourself," Tony replied.

Steve couldn't help himself. "I thought you weren't talking to me for an entire day."

"And I thought that I booted you to the couch," Tony retorted, smirking. "That worked out well. Come here, you big lug."

Steve's eyebrow rose in confusion at the name, but he still crossed the room quickly and shimmied under the covers. He was careful to avoid the IV that was stuck in Tony's right arm and positioned himself around Tony, who had strict orders to stay on his left side.

Tony made a sort of purring noise when Steve had wrapped himself around him. The billionaire's head was snuggled into the Captain's chiseled chest and he pressed himself against his lover. Steve chuckled softly and tangled his right fingers into his hair. Tony could feel Steve's breath rippling against his scalp and the soft press of Steve's lips on top of his head, and he loved every second of it.

"Missed you…" Tony sighed, feeling more relaxed than he had in the past couple of weeks.

"Love you," Steve whispered back. The soldier entwined his left hand with Tony's right, letting them share the warmth.

"Love you, too."

They fell into companionable silence, letting it lull them to sleep. No words were needed; no apologies, no proclamations of never-ending love and fidelity were uttered. The presence of the other was simply enough, even with all the insecurities that plagued them on a daily basis.

They had each other, and that was enough.

That was all they had ever needed, though the rest of the team didn't seem to think so. When Steve woke in the morning at daybreak, he was pleased to see Tony looking much restful than he had in ages; the lines of his face had evened out and he was still curled against Steve, fast asleep. A snore caught Steve's attention and he shifted slightly to see Bruce on the other side of Tony. The scientist had pulled up a chair and was currently sleeping in an uncomfortable position with his feet propped up at the end of Tony's giant bed. Behind him, resting in a tightly packed ball was Natasha. Sometime during the night, she had claimed the couch – no doubt the reason why Bruce was forced to sleep in a chair.

Steve chuckled and glanced around the room for the last Avenger, but saw no trace of the archer. "Where's Barton?" he muttered, not quite realizing that he had spoken out loud.

"Try the top of the dresser," murmured Tony, sleep making his tone rough.

Steve almost jumped at his lover's voice. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No…" Tony mumbled, "Too early…"

The soldier merely shook his head fondly and rubbed his fingers in a soothing circle on Tony's hand, coaxing the genius back to sleep. Tony's words suddenly kicked in and Steve stretched his neck to see Barton curled on top of Tony's dresser. He smirked. He should've known.

Tony made a contented sound, cuddled within Steve's strong arms and surrounded by all the members of his precious, little family. Steve grinned into Tony's hair as he gave him a kiss.

Yep. All was right in the world and Steve wouldn't change it for anything.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

So, Steve is a little bit harsh in this chapter, but I kind of think that it seems like a logical move. I mean, seriously, I pretty much pulverized Tony using the Enchantress. I think he's entitled to be a little angry. Not Hulk angry, obviously, but it seems to me that Captain America is really not somebody you should mess with anyway.

And I know it's a little short and I may improve or update it later to add more things, but that's dependent on the epilogue. I think I'll add Thor into the epilogue, but I'm not sure how well I can get his character. Is he supposed to be really silly and kind of childish? And I'm guessing that he's a loud person too? Any other questions left unanswered that I should cover in the epilogue? Please let me know and if you have any suggestions. Thanks!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review!

~ Kanae Yuna


	7. Epilogue

I am so, so sorry about how late this is. I honestly just couldn't come up with a good epilogue. I mean, I reread Chapter 6 and realized that it was a good ending in itself, but I did want Tony to have his absolution with the Enchantress, so I added this. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. Just pretend that Chapter 6 is the ending then. I didn't add Thor in here, just because quite frankly, I didn't feel as though he fit in after being absent for so long. So just imagine that he's still in Asgard when all this goes down. This chapter is also a little bit shorter than the rest, but I hope it still meets all your expectations.

Anyway, please read and review. I hope you enjoy it! (I don't own any _Marvel _products.)

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Steve snapped awake, breathing harshly through his nose as he swallowed any noises of distress that were fighting to erupt from him. Cold sweat covered his brow as he sat up, tiredly rubbing the nightmare from his weary face.

There was a soft sound of shuffling next to him and he glanced down. Beside him, Tony had managed to shove his head half under his pillow with the blanket entangled by his hips. The genius' face was hidden by the crook of his left arm as he slept on his stomach. His other hand had, sometime during the night, clenched onto the edges of Steve's shirt, and had subconsciously realized that Steve had shifted. Like a moth drawn to light, Tony mumbled incoherently as he curled in more towards Steve, letting the soldier's warmth chase away the cool air around them.

A small smile quirked on Steve's face as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lover's forehead. Unable to resist, he ran his fingers down Tony's arms, relishing the touch of the warm skin.

"I'd call that sexual harassment if I didn't enjoy it so much," Tony said without opening his eyes.

Surprise filled Steve. "How long have you been awake?"

Brown eyes cracked open. "Since you started tossing and turning. Same dream?"

Steve sighed. "Always."

"Come here, Capiscle," grunted Tony, tugging gently on Steve's larger arms.

Steve obliged Tony, as he always did, and let himself be pulled into Tony's warm embrace. For a second, it was a little uncomfortable, with their long limbs trying to find the right position. One more shift and Steve found himself on his side, facing Tony. They were pressed tightly against one another, with Steve's head right next to Tony's chest. The sound of the reactor humming and Tony's steady heartbeat lulled the soldier – it was music to his ears.

As if he could sense Steve's chaotic mind, Tony's arms wrapped tighter around Steve. He kissed Steve several times on top of his head.

"Still here. Not going anywhere," Tony murmured.

It was a routine, and Steve knew it. He did the same for Tony on his bad nights.

Closing his eyes, Steve decided to focus on the drum of Tony's heart beat his fears away.

"Was it the ice?" Tony asked quietly.

Steve shook his head.

"Spell?"

There was no movement this time, which meant that Tony had hit the bulls-eye.

"Hey, how many times do we have to go over this? It wasn't you. _You _would never hurt me. I trust you, Steve. So stop this stupid guilt-fest you have going on here."

The argument was always the same. Steve's answer never changed and it never would. No matter what Tony said, it was Steve's hands that hurt Tony. But Tony never gave him any chance to back away. It was so unlike the billionaire – to stand his ground instead of running to his workshop where he would bury himself into his work. That, alone, had kept the guilt at bay. If Tony was willing to fight for them, Steve couldn't _not_ do the same, no matter what had happened.

Sighing immeasurably, Steve just snuggled in closer to Tony, thinking of how far all of their little family had come since the Enchantress.

It had been a few weeks after the entire helicopter incident that Tony liked to call the "Jealous Bitch Debacle", and the billionaire had mended fairly well. The stab wound on his back had healed enough to leave a large, ropey scar, though he still had to be careful to not aggravate it further. His broken rib twinged every now and then, but it too, had started to fuse back together. Tony still walked with a limp and occasionally was forced to use crutches (though that usually lastly for about five minutes before the contraptions suddenly mysteriously disappeared), but otherwise, he was close to being back at full health.

The guilt revolving Tony never did fully go away. Despite everything that he said, Tony still flinched if someone made a quick movement towards him. He stayed clear of his teammates when they trained or worked out and was tentative to initiate any sort or interaction for a brief, heart-wrenching second. He joked and laughed like usual, but the fear in his unconscious body language had not completely faded away.

But they were all handling it. The guilt on the team's side and Tony's instinctive fear had subsided to a level that was minimally damaging to their friendships and relationships, but everyone on the team found ways around it. Natasha still treaded carefully around Tony. The master spy found herself making more noise upon approach and always placed herself in front of Tony. If she was ever behind him, she made sure that she stayed within his vision of sight. Clint didn't bring his bow within Tony's general vicinity and kept his love of his arrows away from his friend; Steve stopped working out in front of Tony and never spoke aloud about the times when he had silently comforted the genius after a nightmare.

In return, Tony would scold the Widow for treating him like glass, forcing her to snark back to him before giving her modified knives to hide on her person; he made Clint new and highly dangerous arrows and upgraded his bow. As for Steve...well, that kind of stuff stayed in the bedroom. Bruce would just stand by the side and act as mediator (yes, he thought it was ironic too), smiling fondly as the team reached an equilibrium about the whole "Jealous Bitch Debacle".

It even got to the point where Clint and Tony could joke about the incident, hassling Natasha about when they were going to get front row seats to the "bitch fight" they missed out on. Clint had walked around with a black eye quite proudly for a few days while Tony broke into a wide smile whenever Natasha hissed at him as he passed by, knowing full well that he was getting a free pass for a bit. Never let it be said that Tony Stark wasn't one to milk Natasha's momentary kindness for all it was worth.

Steve smiled at the thought of Tony crowing about how he "got away" from the Black Widow and let out a little chuckle.

He couldn't see Tony's face, but he could feel his boyfriend's body relax minutely.

"We good?" Tony asked, tentatively.

Steve just lifted his head up and pressed his lips against Tony's, his blue eyes sparkling with all the love that filled every single crevice of his soul. "We're more than good," he breathed.

Tony smiled and pulled Steve in for a deeper kiss, starting a battle of tongues. Steve won, of course, but by then, neither of them really cared before disappearing deeper under the covers to fully consummate their love.

* * *

When Tony woke in the morning, feeling so deliciously sore in all the right ways and places, Steve was still buried into his side, sleeping like a log. Quite like Steve during the night, Tony couldn't resist and leaned down to kiss Steve on the forehead before quietly untangling himself. Silent as a cat, Tony slid off their bed and slipped on some clothes before padding out.

He hummed under his breath as he headed to the kitchen. It was early – like four o'clock in the morning – so he had assumed that everyone else in the Tower would still be asleep. He really shouldn't have been surprised to see Clint perched on top of the kitchen island.

The archer was wearing his S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform and nursing a mug of coffee. He probably had just returned from a mission and was still too wired to collapse in his bed.

Tony merely gave him a nod and poured himself a cup of piping hot coffee. He settled in a chair next to where Clint was sitting.

"How was your mission?" he asked, quickly glancing over his friend to see if there were any visible injuries.

"Successful. And easy as fuck. I think I'm on probation or something."

Tony snorted. "That's what you get for drawing whiskers on Fury's face with my patented permanent marker."

"Hey! You dared me to do it!"

"And yet, who's the one in trouble?"

"I hate you."

"See if I make you new upgrades, Bird Brain."

"You're a god."

"Nope. Human. Don't think I'd like to be a god. Do you see how gaudy Thor dresses like? I think I would throw myself off the roof if I had to wear a cape."

Clint chuckled. "You'd throw yourself off the roof just to see if you could fly with that cape."

"I've got a suit that lets me fly. Don't think I need a cape."

"Imagine Iron Man with a cape. It'd be hilariously awesome."

"Until I get sucked into the propeller of the helicarrier." Tony slurped at his coffee and eyed Clint, a steel glint in his brown irises. "Speaking of which, you think you can give me a lift?"

Sensing the sudden change in atmosphere, Barton set down his cup and gave Tony his full attention. "Where to?"

"The helicarrier. I'd go in the suit, but I want to keep a low profile."

"What are you planning to do? _She's_ pretty much still half-dead. You won't get much from her that we already haven't."

"It's not like I'm looking for revenge. You guys already took care of that for me."

"You heard about that?" Clint actually looked sheepish.

"I have video clips."

"I'm guessing Steve doesn't know?"

"Duh."

"I'm not great at relationship advice, but I'm pretty sure lying to your partner isn't a great way to go."

"You think Steve will feel at ease if he knew that I had seen what he did?"

"You shouldn't have watched it then."

"I didn't think you guys would get that violent."

There was a moment of silence as Clint processed what Tony said. Why was it that the genius, billionaire, friend, had such low sense of self-worth?

Finally, "She hurt you. You would do the same if it was one of us."

Tony just hummed.

"So, why do you want to see that bitch?"

Tony paused. "Closure, I guess."

"Right then. You want to go now?"

"This is why you're my favorite," grinned Tony. "You don't ask a lot of questions."

"I'm your favorite? Oh, be still my beating heart," Clint said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, after Steve and Bruce, of course. Science bros before pranking bros. But if you're better in bed than Steve is, which I _highly_ doubt – Super Soldier and all, and I _do_ mean _Super_, with a capital 'S' – you can jump up the list."

Clint laughed. "I'll meet you at the quinjet in five. Get changed, bro. You don't look particularly threatening in Steve's shirt."

Tony frowned, glancing down as Clint left him behind. He hadn't realized that he picked up Steve's shirt to wear. It was ridiculously too large on him and he looked like a child that was swimming in his dad's clothes. While it was comfortable and to Steve, he was probably adorable as hell (when isn't he?), Clint was right. He had some unfinished business with the Enchantress, but not as Iron Man.

Tony stood, cracking his neck.

It had been a while, but it was time for the Merchant of Death to resurface.

He grinned. This was going to be fun.

* * *

Tony had to admit: for a secret spy agency, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security really sucked. A child could hack into the surveillance cameras and set on a loop. And with Clint's guidance of how to maneuver unseen within the helicarrier, it was laughable how easy it was to make it to the supposedly most secure prison on board.

Leaving Hawkeye outside as a guard, Tony slipped into the room to see the Enchantress tied, eagle-spread, on a metal bed with heavy-set manacles. She was upright and conscious when Tony entered.

Her green eyes shone with distaste as soon as he stepped into her view. "Ah, so the Man of Iron lives."

"Yeah, next time you want to kill me, try doing it with your own hands instead of hiding behind your fucking magic," Tony said, letting the snark overwhelm his tone.

"You misunderstand, Man of Iron. This was never about you."

Tony cocked his head, a cold smirk appearing on his face. "Did the Hulk hit you too hard in the head? Even as fucked up as you are, you can't deny that you tried to kill me, Enchantress."

"I did nothing of the sort. Your teammates did. I can see it in your eyes that the damage they inflicted is far worse than any of your physical injuries. And yet, their pain goes much deeper than yours. They have suffered in the worst possible way, which means I have succeeded. The Avengers have lost."

In a movement faster than the Enchantress could see, Tony had forced himself into her space, inches away from her face.

"You're the one who still doesn't understand anything, Enchantress," Tony said lowly, his tone cold and lethal. "You seem to have targeted me because I'm only human - the weakest or perhaps the least tainted of us all. You only see me as Tony Stark, Iron Man, who fights on the side of good. But there's another side to me that you have overlooked. Before the Avengers, before Iron Man, I was known as the Merchant of Death. It was my job to find new ways to kill and destroy lives. I may be Iron Man now, but I will _always_ be the Merchant of Death."

The Enchantress laughed. "Is that supposed to scare me, mortal?"

"No. _It should terrify you_." Tony's entire demeanor changed, becoming poised and tense, as if he were a cobra, ready to strike. A certain iciness entered his usually warm, brown hues, freezing the Enchantress for a brief second.

In that moment, Tony raised his hand as fast as lightning and stabbed a syringe into her jugular vein, emptying its contents straight into her bloodstream.

Her eyes went wide as she felt the foreign substance run straight to her heart, burning painfully as it raced through her body.

"Wha...?" she gasped, unable to even finish the word before the agony cut her off.

"Don't look so surprised, Enchantress. It's poison."

"Asgard...will never...stand for this!" she panted, her green eyes flashing with anger.

"Oh, don't worry. You won't die. No, dying would be too easy for what you've done. This poison is something I had prepared specially for you. The lovely thing about having master spies as your friends is that you can obtain vials and vials of blood from a certain captured goddess. And I'm a genius. It wasn't difficult for me to create a substance that would hurt you in the worst possible way. You see, you made a huge mistake of hurting those I care about, and for that, you will pay the ultimate price."

Stark tapped the side of her throat, just below the needle. "You feel it coursing through you, don't you? You know what it does? It takes away your magic, destroying every last bit of the gene within you that makes you a goddess. In a few minutes, you'll be the same as those that you've looked down upon - a mortal."

He grinned wickedly as he forcibly yanked out the syringe and let it drop to the ground. "Soon, Thor will be here to take you back to Asgard where you will forever be a pariah among your people, a mortal among immortals with no magic or ounce of what had made you who you were. _That_ is your punishment for fucking with my family."

He took a step back. "Oh, and tell all your friends who are stupid enough to come mess with the Avengers that we are not weak. We are strong and _we cannot be broken_." He smiled, "Enjoy the rest of your miserable life, Enchantress. Burn in hell."

As he turned to leave, the Enchantress started screaming. "You'll pay for this! You _will_ pay for this, Anthony Stark!"

Tony ignored her and calmly shut the door behind him, but it did little to drown out her cries, not that he cared.

He glanced up and saw Steve, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce all standing before him. There was no surprise or shock in their expressions - just acceptance and unwavering love (though it was harder to tell with Natasha).

Tony smiled warmly at them, letting the Merchant of Death become buried deep within him once again. "We good?"

There was no hesitation. "Yeah, we're good," responded Steve while the rest of them just nodded in agreement.

"Awesome. 'Cause I'm famished. Anyone up for some food?"

Steve could only smile as he reached out to hold Tony's hand. "We'll pick up some cheeseburgers on the way home. Sound good?"

Tony couldn't help himself and leaned forward for a quick kiss. "I knew there was a reason why I kept you around."

"It's not because you love me?" Steve easily returned, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Naw, I think it was mostly for your perfectly sculpted ass."

"And what are we? Road kill?" quipped Clint.

"Careful of your next words, Stark," Natasha said, her tone light. "Or I'll turn _you_ into road kill."

"But then you'll be bored without all my snark, Natashlie. Besides, I'll still be prettier than all of you, right, Steve?" Tony batted his brown eyes at his boyfriend, knowing full well that Steve couldn't resist.

Steve rolled his eyes, smiling, "You're the fairest in all the land, Tony."

Clint chortled. "He's got that right, _Princess_."

"You're just jealous, Bird Brain."

The bickering continued, as if nothing had ever changed. Bruce just chuckled and shook his head as they all walked away from the nightmare that was the Enchantress.

Once they reached the Quinjet, Clint turned to look at Tony, a glint of seriousness in his eyes. "You done, Princess?"

Tony knew Clint wasn't asking about their banter. He took a deep breath and leaned a little bit closer to Steve and the rest, letting their warmth wash away all that the Enchantress had done.

When he looked back up at his family, he only had a smile waiting for them. "Yeah, let's go home."

* * *

_**The End**_

* * *

I'm really bad at endings. I'm sorry if I dropped the ball or anything. Let me know if this epilogue doesn't fit or Chapter 6 has a better ending. I can always just delete this and leave the story marked as "complete".

Anyway, I do hope that maybe, you enjoyed it. Overall, I had a lot of fun with this story and I want to thank everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed through this entire journey. Thanks for being so awesome and supportive!

Thanks! It's been fun! Hopefully, I'll see you all for my future stories!

~ Kanae Yuna


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